


The Key to Happiness

by drymartini



Category: Gypsy (US TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, F/F, Gypsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 31,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drymartini/pseuds/drymartini
Summary: Another take on what S2 might have been. Sparks flying all over the place. It's all about the confrontations and then the reconciliations with these two. Getting more steamy as it goes along.





	1. Chapter 1

Her life was crashing down around her, and she had only herself to blame.

Sitting on the train back to the city, Sid cursed herself for becoming infatuated with the woman. The warning signs had been there from the beginning but she’d been so irresistible. That face, that body, that hair, those eyes, those lips. The whole older woman thing. The coats. The boots. The lips. Fuck, mentioned those already. Well, they deserve a second mention. Put it all together and it was quite a package. You couldn’t expect a red-blooded girl like me to miss the opportunity of a lifetime like that...

Get a fucking grip. She was a nutcase all along and you knew that. Claiming to be a journalist, when it was obvious she didn’t have a clue what journalists actually did for a living. Contrived arguments, running away, then coming back a few hours later all rebellious and up for it. One minute super-flirty, the next a whole load of I can’t do this anymore. Calling you a liar, claiming that everyone who crossed your path ended up a fucking casualty, what a thing to say. What did she know? No chance to defend yourself. And now it turns out her lies were on an altogether different scale. Was she actually talking about herself, when she said that, do you think?

I suspected all along, you know. Her stories didn’t track.

She’s a mom, with a mom car. That kid is her daughter, not her niece. She’s married to that corporate bloke who turned up at the Rabbit Hole and stuck out like a sore thumb. No wonder she found you exciting. Suffocating out there in the burbs, she needed a hot young barista to spice things up. But now you know all her secrets. It’s over. Get it into your thick skull, for fuck’s sake.

Yes, but remember, she said she could see herself with me.

Right before the pizza guy turned up and ruined the moment. Nice one…

At least I got her into bed in the end.

Took you long enough.

Not for want of trying. She didn’t make it easy, did she? Constantly shying away. I couldn’t rush it, or she might have bolted, never to be seen again. But it was worth it, wasn’t it? And as for the back room at the Rabbit Hole, when I said let’s go on a road trip and she got completely carried away with the whole idea.

Well, that was a lovely little interlude but this just in, Marfa is not happening. Then you stalked her to Darien and had quite the quarter-life crisis in her car. Sniveling about everyone moving on, leaving you behind. No wonder she thought you were still into Sam. Not to mention the text you sent him the night she came round. What were you thinking? You had the hottest woman on the planet right there in your apartment and you were texting that wanker?

I can’t believe I did that. I don’t know what the fuck came over me. I must have been really out of it. It’s like a ghost got hold of my phone and sent it instead of me.

Take some fucking responsibility. You did notice it mysteriously disappeared, complete with his contact info? How the fuck do you think that happened? What kind of person does that? It’s psychopathic! You realize she could be dangerous?

She was jealous. It’s actually kind of cute.

Inviting you round to her apartment - about fucking time, I might add - and what were those drugs doing in her freezer? You really think they belonged to someone else? She’s a dark horse, no doubt about it. You were making your move but then two seconds later she starts looking at Sam on your phone and insists the pair of you go to his engagement do. Taking creepy photos and telling you that you should talk to him, how good you made him feel. Who cares about that, and what the fuck does she know anyway?

I suppose he told her. She’s his therapist. She was always asking about the sex with him, wasn’t she?

Some therapist. Whose side is she on? What about how good you made her feel? She’s a specialist in fucking with people’s heads, in case you hadn’t noticed. She practically said as much when you asked her about how she’d kill someone. That was a weird question, by the way. What the fuck did you want to go and ask her that for?

I don’t know, I had to think of something quickly.

You were the one who suggested the game in the first place! Shouldn’t you have had a few questions lined up? You could have asked her about her fantasies. You missed a trick there. That would have been a good question.

The murder one just came to me, and I thought the answer would be revealing, give me an insight into her psyche.

Well, it certainly did that. Turns out her psyche is black as fuck. She basically admitted outright she’s a manipulative bitch. And she’s been manipulating you from the start. Summoning you for a quickie in the toilet at Grand Central, then stringing you along for days. Sending you little crumbs of intel like someone dangling a catnip mouse from a fishing rod. She had you running about all over the place. Twisted round her little finger.

She was testing me. She wanted me to track her down, to find out about her real life. And I passed with flying colors! You saw the smile on her face. It’s not over.

Yeah, but she’s married. All right, you suspected it, but you know for certain now. Do you think she’ll leave him? What will happen to her daughter? She’s already unstable as fuck, it could tip her right over the edge. You could always blackmail her. Imagine if Sam found out. It’s hard to believe he hasn’t already, after you posted the photo on the Instagram account. Sure, he blocked you, but you’d have thought he’d have heard about it by now.

Sid got out her phone to have a look at the photo and all the comments about how hot Jean was. It had vanished.

What a fucking surprise. When did that happen?

So that’s why she borrowed my phone to take photos at the engagement party. It was nothing to do with getting me back together with him. It was all about deleting the Instagram post. Starts to make sense now…

So what’s it worth, for you not to tell Sam?

You really think I’d do that to her?

Wouldn’t you?

Sid looked out of the train window. Double or quits?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to Jean...

Jean wrapped up her speech and the audience applauded politely. They hadn’t understood a word of it, but that was the least of her worries. She had a hundred plates to keep spinning or there was going to be a massive shitstorm heading her way in the very near future. She left the stage and joined Michael and Dolly.

“Well done, Mommy!” piped up Dolly. The little darling could always be relied on to be supportive. 

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Michael didn’t say a word, or even glance at her. A few of the soccer mom crowd came up and made the usual asinine remarks, then the Holloways were free to leave. They walked out into the parking lot. There was no sign of Sid. 

“Can you take Dolly home? I need to drop off some stuff at my mom’s.” 

Michael looked at her suspiciously, clearly unconvinced by her earlier assurances. Eventually he gave a curt nod, and Jean walked over to her car, the back seat laden with the things she’d removed from 309. She checked her phone, but there were no messages. She dialed Nancy’s number.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Jeanie! Is everything all right? I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“Everything’s fine, Mom, but can I come over and see you?”

“What, now? Of course.”

It would take twenty minutes to get to Nancy’s place, which would at least give her time to think and figure out what the fuck to do now. Jean began to drive. 

First things first. She’d been holding it in, but now she could let her mind go there at last. Oh my god. Sid. Sid tracked me down! Sid knows everything! I knew she was getting closer, she went to Michael’s office, but I wasn’t expecting this, here, tonight!

Fucking Google. Kids today can find out everything. 

But it’s amazing that she went to so much trouble and followed all the clues and showed up! And she looked so wonderful this evening, so bohemian, untamed, a beautiful feline in that hall full of conformist middle-aged parents. You can’t expect a red-blooded woman like me to miss the opportunity of a lifetime like that... 

Get a fucking grip. She’s a pathological liar and you should know better. I bet her father isn’t dead or even a criminal. He’s probably a perfectly nice law-abiding aristocrat living in a castle somewhere in England. Stealing your phone when Dolly was calling, at the party, such a violation. Asking her ex round to pick up his stuff from the cafe when we were in the middle of a date, who does that? One minute having an epic meltdown in your car, the next couldn’t care less, totally over it, whatevs. You can’t trust a word she says. Remember she wanted to know how you’d kill someone. That was a fucking weird question. Is she thinking about killing someone? Is she in some kind of danger, do you think?

Only from me, hopefully…

You've got to let it go and get back to repairing your marriage. Forgotten already? You promised Michael you’d give up everything. You told him you were going to be all in. This fling with Sid, it’s over, Jean.

It is not fucking over. You saw the expression on her face. Sometimes it takes just one look at someone to know that’s what you really want…

Are you talking about her, or about yourself?

Both of us. When I caught her eye, there was a spark between us. A surge of electricity. She felt it too, there’s no doubt about it. I’m amazed the auditorium didn’t catch fire… 

Well, your old friend Melissa wasn’t there… 

Shut the fuck up!

Fine, thunderbolts and lightning occurred, if you insist. So why didn’t Sid stick around?

What, have some horrific showdown with Michael in the parking lot, in front of Dolly? She’s not an idiot, is she? She’s playing it cool. That’s my Sidney…

She knows the truth now, more like, and she can see that your real life is dull as fuck. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but Diane Hart, enigmatic journalist extraordinaire, just got herself consigned to the garbage heap of history. Sid isn’t going to be interested in boring old married Dr Jean Holloway. What was it Sam said? Once you reciprocate, it’ll be done. It was just a game, all along. 

Huh. Wishful thinking on his part. That fucker, what would he know? She said this was different for her. And then she took me to bed. And it was incredible. If pressed, I would have to confess it was the best night of my life.

That was before she knew who you were. Remember, everyone who crosses her path…

Yeah yeah, I can’t believe I said that. I barely knew her then. What the fuck did I know, only what Sam told me, and he wasn’t exactly an unbiased observer. And yet she still came back for more. The girl was into me. 

Maybe, but she was keeping her options open, wasn’t she? The text she sent Sam. And you went and deleted it off her phone! Did you think she wouldn’t notice? Are you completely batshit crazy?

I couldn’t bear to see it. I was jealous. I don’t know if she actually noticed. She never said anything…

And deleting the Instagram picture? Did you think she wouldn’t notice that either? What fucking planet are you on, Jean? You made a big song and dance about her invading your privacy and then you stole her phone and deleted her stuff, twice!

I had to get rid of the photo. I couldn’t risk Michael seeing it.

It was out there for days! You think Michael hasn’t already seen it? Are you out of your fucking mind? He knows all about the Vagabonds. Sid gave him their flyer, for fuck’s sake! It was her way of fucking with you. And you got mad at Michael and told him never to visit “your” coffee shop again. Great job, nothing suspicious about that! The entire world saw the fucking photo. Get used to the idea. Everyone knows. 

I don’t think the Faitelsons know. 

Michelle definitely knows. That’s why she offered you pills.

That was the nicest thing she’s ever said to me. And it could come in handy. Anyway, Sam didn’t see it.

Yeah, that’s weird. God knows how you got away with that. You would have had some major explaining to do. You can’t afford to take stupid risks like that in future. But Michael definitely saw it. 

Well, again, he hasn’t said anything…

It’s been written all over his face for the past couple of days. Did you fail to notice that he’s now sleeping on the couch? It’s only a matter of time before he goes back to Catherine, or that annoying Alexis girl. 

You're probably right. But in that case, what have I got to lose?


	3. Chapter 3

Jean arrived at Nancy’s house and pulled up outside. She checked her phone again. Still nothing.

Just wait, she told herself. Be patient. 

She got out of the car, walked up the drive and rang the doorbell. Her mom answered, and gave her a hug on the doorstep.

“Jeanie! Come on in.”

“Actually, Mom, I have some stuff in my car. Can I leave it in the basement?”

Nancy raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.”

Jean took the boxes inside and got them safely put away, then went back upstairs to the living room. Nancy had made a pot of tea. 

“Did you come here just to leave things in the basement or do you have time for a conversation with your mother?” 

“Actually, there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Michael?” 

“No. Something else.”

Jean explained about Allison, and how she had let her stay at 309.

“That was nice of you.”

Jean sighed.

“She’s been reported as a missing person. The police are looking for her. A detective came round to my office.”

Nancy looked at her.

“I gave him a lot of background information. I even gave him my notes, though they’re supposed to be confidential.”

“But?”

“I couldn’t tell him she’d been staying at 309! My boss already thinks I’ve overstepped the line. If he found out about this…”

“You’d lose your job?”

“Probably. Melissa Saugraves has just got out, so he’s been reminded about that whole situation.”

“To allow one patient to get to close to you may be regarded as a misfortune. To allow two…”

“Exactly. As soon as I found out that Allison was missing I went straight round to 309, and it was a mess and the bed had been made up to look as if someone was in it. It had me fooled for a second.”

“What do you think has happened to her?”

“It’s Tom, I’m sure of it. Her son of a bitch boyfriend. He’s dangerous…”

Maybe best to skip over the drugs in the yogurt incident. 

“And he doesn’t like me, because I’m trying to help Allison get clean and get her life back and that means he’ll lose her.”

“So this Tom is a nasty piece of work,” said Nancy.

Jean nodded. I would go so far as to say he’s an evil little shit, in fact.

“I told Detective Kelly to go talk to Tom, and now it seems that he knows Allison was staying in an apartment on the upper west side and he said he was going there to check it out this evening.”

“Right…” said Nancy, taking it all in. “So you’ve cleared out your things.”

“Just the personal things. But I left the photo of you there.”

“Oh. I didn’t make the grade?”

For fuck’s sake.

“Mom! I didn’t want it to look weird, like nobody lived there. And he’ll work out that it belongs to you. They have records they can check. So it needed to look convincing.”

“So what you’re telling me is that I can expect a visit from this detective tomorrow.”

“It’s possible, yes.” 

Nancy took another sip of tea.

“And what would you like me to say to him?”

“Tell him 309 is your apartment, it does belong to you, but you hardly ever go there. And you’ve never heard of Allison Adams.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be better for you to come clean with him now, before you get into any more trouble? Just tell him that you let her stay there for a few days, but then she vanished. It doesn’t seem like such a big thing.”

“I can’t tell him, Mom, I’ll lose my job. And I could get locked up for withholding information, obstructing the course of justice.”

“You have a husband who’s a lawyer at a top New York firm, Jeanie! You could tell the detective that you needed time to talk to Michael before you felt able to give him the information. I’m sure he would understand.”

Jean remembered the detective’s cold, fishlike stare, and shuddered. She couldn’t take the risk. Active denial was the only option.

“Please, Mom, can you just tell him that 309 is yours and you know nothing about Allison?”

“And you don’t think they’ll find out that I’m your mother?”

“I'm hoping he won’t make the connection. Our names are different, and he probably has other leads to look into. But if he does, it’ll be my problem.”

“I don’t want to be visiting my only child in jail, Jeanie.”

“Mom! Don’t say that!”

“All right. If you’re sure about this.”

“I am, Mom.”

“I just hope they find this girl soon and that she’s safe.”

“Yeah, of course, that’s the main thing. Finding Allison.”

Jean looked around the room.

“Can you make sure you hide any photos of me?”

“Of course. And if the detective asks if I have a daughter?”

“He won’t ask that. But if he does… just do what feels right. I’m not going to ask you to lie.”

“I’ll say you live in Darien and give the impression you’re a housewife,” said Nancy. “That should throw him off the scent.”

“Thanks, Mom. I owe you,” said Jean, getting up to leave. They embraced again.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I have any news,” said Nancy.

Jean climbed back into her car and checked her phone. Nothing. She drove home. It was past eleven, and Michael was asleep on the couch. Jean walked into the kitchen and poured herself a bourbon. She took it upstairs, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. At least Mom had agreed to cover for her. The Michael situation was out of her hands. As for Sid… Still nothing. It had been hours. Fortified by the drink, Jean couldn’t wait any longer. She tapped out a message. 

“We need to talk... Can I see you tomorrow?” 

She got changed for bed and cleaned her teeth, staring at herself in the mirror. How long could she continue to hold it all together? Eventually she fell asleep, and dreamed she was driving a camper van down a track in the woods, with a beautiful passenger sitting next to her.


	4. Chapter 4

Breakfast was even more awkward than yesterday. Thank god Dolly had her ipad to distract her from the tension between her parents. Jean took her to school, then drove to the station. She caught the train into the city and made her way to the office. 

All she could do was wait, for news from Nancy or the detective, for a decision from Michael, for any contact at all from Sid. It had been radio silence on that front and Jean was beginning to feel distinctly rattled. What was Sid playing at? Jean thought about going to look for her at the Rabbit Hole. She imagined walking through the door, making her way over to the counter and joining the throng of cool young people, the moment when Sid noticed her presence, their eyes met and her heart began to race. 

Sid would take her into the back room and apologize for her failure to respond to Jean’s message, her phone had been playing up, it was fucked. What could she do to make amends? Passionate kisses would be exchanged and Jean would stroke Sid’s hair. Probably no more than that, because anyone could walk in at any moment. But they’d set a time to meet up later and then there would be no stopping them…

Jean roused herself from the fantasy. There was nothing wrong with Sid’s phone. It was obvious that she was keeping her on tenterhooks quite deliberately. Jean had done the same to her before, so she couldn’t exactly complain. Sid needed time to process. But another message couldn’t hurt.

“Hope you’re not mad at me. I owe you an explanation. When can I see you?”

It was a bit needy, but that couldn’t be helped. Jean turned her attention back to her patients, but she was finding it hard to sympathize with their problems which seemed so trivial compared to her own. 

At lunchtime, she avoided Larin. She didn’t need an interrogation from her friend today. Instead, she went to the park and attempted to read the New Yorker as she ate her salad on a bench. But it was difficult to concentrate, and it came as a relief when the phone rang. 

“Hi, Mom.”

“Jeanie. How are you?”

“Bearing up.”

“Good. Listen, I had a call from Detective Kelly, as you predicted.”

Shit. 

“What did he say?”

“He’s going to come over this evening, about seven o’clock. I told him I was busy during the day. Thought it would buy you some time, you know.”

“Thanks. You remember what to say?”

“Oh yes. You can count on me, Jeanie. I don’t want to see…”

“… Your only child end up in jail, yeah, got it, Mom.”

“All right. I’ll speak to you later.”

“Bye.”

Jean exhaled. She could stop worrying about that situation for a few hours at least. She gathered up her things, getting ready to go back to the office, when her phone buzzed. A message from S. Finally!

“My place 7.00.” 

Jean smiled. Looking on the bright side, she had not been excommunicated, but usually Sid had a bit more to say for herself than that. All right then, Jean could play it cool too.

“Sure. See you later.”

Somehow she got through the rest of the working day and as soon as her last patient had left, she scribbled some brief notes on his progress and left the office. She made her way to Bushwick and to Sid’s apartment block. She walked up the stairs, took a few deep breaths to steady herself, and knocked on the door. 

Jean’s eyes softened at the sight of Sid in blue checked shirt and stripy pajama shorts, hair hanging wild down over her shoulders, signature lashings of eyeliner, cigarette in hand. Sid had chain-smoked practically an entire packet of cigarettes in the past hour, counting down to this moment.

Sid held the door open and Jean walked inside. She couldn’t help thinking about what had happened last time she was in this apartment. That crazy evening, the game they’d played, the unforgettable sight of Sid standing in front of her slowly taking off her clothes, and after all that, being taken to bed by this divine creature and made love to in the most exquisite way imaginable. 

Soft music was playing in the background. Jean removed her smart olive green coat and looked around for somewhere to put it. Sid indicated the chair by the desk, and Jean draped the coat over it. She had a flashback to Sid spinning her around and pushing her into this same chair. How exciting it had been to be treated roughly like that…

Back to the here and now. 

“Thanks,” she said, although Sid hadn’t done much to help. Usually she couldn’t keep her hands off Jean, but tonight she seemed to be keeping her distance. 

“Drink?” 

“Sure.” 

Jean bit back a question about limes, remembering how well that had gone down before. She took a seat by the coffee table and composed herself, glancing across at Sid and trying to assess her mood. Wary? Volatile. Sid brought over the bottle of tequila and a couple of glasses and sat down next to her. She poured the drinks.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The tequila was fiery and highly necessary. Liquid courage. 

“Thanks for letting me come over,” Jean began, tentatively.

“You said you’d give me an explanation. I’m looking forward to hearing it, Jean.”

The use of her real name didn’t go unnoticed. 

“I understand if you’re angry…”

Sid seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. “I should be. You played me.”

Jean cast about for a response.

“Yes,” was all she could come up with. 

“But when you sent me the story, you must have known that it would lead me straight to you. The real you.”

Sid was looking at her in that frank way of hers. No bullshit. God, that mouth. Focus. Jean nodded.

“So you wanted me to find out.”

Jean decided to play for time. 

“Can I have a cigarette?”

Sid lit it for her, using the lighter Jean had given her. She still had it, then. 

“I think you’re right, deep down, I wanted you to know the truth.”

“So, you let me win. You just gave me all the power. I can tell Sam about you. You’re his therapist, right?”

A sharp intake of breath. How had she not seen this coming. 

“He was here when I got home last night. He came to get Stevie, and I found him right there lying on the bed.”

“What did you do?” asked Jean, breathing raggedly. 

“Kicked him out, obviously.”

“You didn’t tell him about me.”

“No, I didn’t fucking tell him. But I could, at any time. So… what’s it worth?”

“What do you want? Do you expect me to beg for your forgiveness?” scoffed Jean.

“Sounds like fun.”

Sid’s eyes were gleaming. Jean remembered Sid’s comment about domination, which she’d carefully filed away. She felt a thrill run down her spine and a tingling sensation between her legs. What concessions was Sid thinking of extracting from her tonight?

Her phone began to ring, inside her coat pocket.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” said Sid, as Jean stood up to answer it.

“Sorry,” said Jean. “I have to get this.”

Sid contemplated grabbing the phone but decided against it. The game could be resumed in a minute. She poured herself another glass of tequila as Jean took the call in the bathroom.

“Mom.”

“Hello Jeanie.”

“Did you see him?”

“Yes, he’s just left.”

“What happened? What did he say?”

“He asked about 309, and just as we agreed, I told him it’s mine and I hardly ever go there. And then he asked about Diane.”

“Diane?”

“Apparently Diane Hart is the name on your letterbox.”

“Oh, shit!”

“But I thought on my feet and I said that’s a name I like to use sometimes, instead of Nancy.”

“You think he believed you?”

“I don’t know. He has a funny stare, doesn’t he? But I gave him my best poker face. He went away after that. I waited a few minutes before calling you, just in case he was still hanging around.”

“Right. Thanks, Mom.”

“Where are you, Jeanie?”

“I’m at a friend’s.”

“Good. I hope she’s looking after you.”

“She is, Mom.” In a manner of speaking. Sitting out there waiting to pounce and make me do god knows what. 

“All right then. Good night.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Jean hung up, and regarded herself in the mirror. Well, she couldn’t hide in here forever. She drew back the curtain. Slowly, she walked across the room, put the phone on the table and sat down next to Sid. 

Sid realized Jean was trembling.

“Are you all right? What’s going on?”

The concern on Sid’s face melted Jean’s resolve. She closed her eyes, so that Sid wouldn’t see she was crying.

“You think you just found out about my life. You think you know everything about me. But I’m in some deep shit.”

Sid looked at her, trying to work out if this was all an act. But the phone call had been real enough. 

“What kind of shit?”

“I’ve fucked up so bad. I could be about to lose everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jean wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. Now her nose was running too. All poise and dignity gone in a few seconds. Fuck it. 

“I don’t want to lose you as well.”

Sid moved closer and put her arms around her. Jean collapsed into them. 

“Sidney...” 

“Talk to me. What the fuck is going on?”

“I can’t. I can’t get you involved in this.”

“You can trust me, you know. I was just fucking with you earlier, that stuff about Sam.”

“I’m sorry, that phone call. Bad timing.”

“It’s all right. You can beg for my forgiveness another time. I won’t forget.”

Jean smiled. “Is that a promise?”

That would be something to look forward to, if she ever got out of this mess. 

“Whatever happens, whatever this shit is, you’re going to get through it, Diane. We’re going to get through it.”

Sid nuzzled her cheek and Jean moved in for a kiss. She’d been waiting for the chance all day. Sid reciprocated fervently and her hands began to slide down Jean’s back. Jean glanced at her watch.

“Shit. You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

Jean did a quick calculation.

“I can stay for a half an hour.”

“Good. Plenty of time for me to take your mind off things.”

They kissed again, Jean shifting position so that her dress rode up her leg. Sid’s hand crept up her thigh and kept going. With a contented sigh, Jean lay back and Sid moved on top of her. Jean gazed into her eyes. Were they green or hazel? She really should know by now, she’d looked into them often enough, but the color always seemed to be changing. Sid kissed her neck and Jean gave herself up to the gentle touch of her fingertips. For now, thoughts of impending doom were banished.


	5. Chapter 5

Jean was back in the office again, thinking about last night. Sid had given her exactly what she needed to keep going, and it had been so tempting to stay in that place of refuge, but real life had called her back. She’d arrived home to find that Stacey had put Dolly to bed. Michael had said he’d be back late but hadn’t given a reason. Was it work, or was he out with some other woman, exploring his options? At least Sid had agreed to meet up again this evening, at Morandi's, so she didn’t have too long to wait. She was planning to drink a nice bottle of Barolo with Sid, maybe have some pasta, find out how she really felt about the situation and explore where this might go next. 

Just before lunchtime, Gary came in to tell her she had a visitor. Detective Kelly was here to see her. There was no time for pills. He sat on the sofa, giving her that unpleasant fishy stare, while she sat on her chair and crossed her legs, the picture of an upright citizen.

“I wanted to give you an update in person,” said the detective.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” said Jean, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Are you familiar with apartment 2E, 309 West 81st Street?”

The mistress of deception found herself unable to tell a direct lie to a police officer.

“I, um…,” she stammered. 

“We believe Allison Adams was staying at the property. It belongs to a Mrs Nancy Hart. Wouldn’t happen to be related to you, by any chance?”

Detective Kelly stood up and walked over to the wall where Jean’s degree certificate from Johns Hopkins was hanging. The heavy gothic font was practically indecipherable, but if you stared at it for long enough, and knew what you were looking for, you could just about make out her maiden name, Jean Hart. Oh, fuck! The game was up.

“She’s my mom.”

He didn’t seem surprised. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

Jean was unable to meet his cold blue eyes. 

“I let Allison stay there last week. To keep her off the streets. I was worried about her, and I wanted to give her a chance to get back on her feet. I should have told you before, I know. I just… I didn’t want my boss to find out. We’re supposed to keep a distance from the patients, not get involved.”

“I see. And when was this?”

“Let me check.”

Jean got out her phone and looked at her calendar.

“It was the afternoon of November 22nd. Last Tuesday.”

“And when did you become aware that she was no longer there?”

“Her mom came here to the office, to see me the next day, the Wednesday, and I realized then that Allison had been lying to me.”

“Lying to you?”

“Yes. Her mom said that Allison had been living with her for the past few months, which wasn’t what she’d led me to believe. And Allison told me that her mom was sick, but that was a lie too.”

The detective was scribbling notes on his pad. 

“So as soon as her mom left, I went round to 309 and found the door open, my stuff lying everywhere, and no sign of Allison. And then, later, I found drugs in the freezer. I think she must have left them behind.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

“I think she must have called Tom, and he came round to get her. He was the one who told you about the apartment, right?”

The detective neither confirmed nor denied her suspicions.

“How else would he have known about it, if he hadn’t been there. And the way my stuff was left, scattered all over the place. The bed had been made to look as if someone was in it. That’s just the sort of fucked-up thing Tom would do. He hates me, because I’ve been trying to help Allison.”

Jean’s vocabulary, normally so eloquent, deteriorated as she thought about Tom. Evil. Little. Shit. 

“Excuse my language.”

Was that a smile on Detective Kelly’s face? If so, it was only because he could see that she was beginning to panic. Don’t let him get to you, Jean.

“And where is your main place of residence?”

“Connecticut. Darien. I live there with my husband and daughter.” 

“What’s the address?”

Jean gave it to him. 

“I’m going to need you to take us there.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes. Can you come with me, please?”

Jean’s blood pressure shot through the roof and she looked helplessly at her desk drawer, but she could hardly start downing fistfuls of clonazepam right in front of the detective. She had no choice but to gather her bag and coat.

“Can I tell my boss I have to leave, so they can cancel my patients?”

He nodded, and Jean went into Gary’s office. She was tempted to take a running jump out of the window, but instead told him she had to go with the detective. 

“Jean! What on earth is going on?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Fortunately her other colleagues were busy seeing patients, so they didn’t witness her getting in the back seat of a police car. Detective Kelly wasn’t the chatty type and the drive to Darien took place in uncomfortable silence. Jean stared out of the window, struggling to believe this was actually happening. 

At last, they drew up outside the house. A patrol car with two uniformed officers was already waiting in the drive. Jean opened the front door and the four of them went inside. The big shaggy dog made a rare appearance, hoping it was going to get an extra meal. It was out of luck. Detective Kelly asked Jean to wait in the living room and one of the uniformed officers hung around, clearly there to keep an eye on her. No chance of a quick bourbon on the rocks then. Meanwhile, the detective carried out a search of the house with the other officer. 

Jean quivered with resentment at the intrusion but reminded herself that her boundaries were intact with respect to the house at least. She’d always kept her home life in Darien completely separate to her work and her secret identity as Diane. Allison didn’t know where she lived and had never been anywhere near here. There was nothing to worry about.

The detective came back into the living room, a serious expression on his face. 

“Jean Holloway. I’m arresting you on suspicion of unlawfully abducting Allison Adams. You have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney...”


	6. Chapter 6

Jean was sitting in the interrogation room waiting for Michael. But it was a different lawyer who entered the room and sat down next to her. She’d never seen him before. He was in his late forties, and Jean supposed he was vaguely handsome if she’d been interested in men at this point in time. 

“I’m John,” he introduced himself. “I’m a criminal lawyer. Michael sent me.”

Michael couldn’t be bothered to turn up, then, to help his wife who had just been arrested. Or a more charitable interpretation would be that John was more experienced in cases like this. Criminal law was not Michael’s specialty. 

“Can you tell me what’s happened?”

Jean explained the story as best she could. 

“I can’t believe they’ve arrested me. I told them everything I knew.”

“I guess we’ll find out in a minute,” said John. 

“How does this work? Should I answer their questions?” asked Jean.

“Yes, but if you’re not sure what to say, confer with me.”

He let the police know they were ready for the interview to begin. The detective and a colleague came into the room, sat down and switched on the tape recorder. At first the questions were treading over old ground, and Jean repeated everything she’d told the detective earlier. Then he left the room for a minute and came back holding a clear plastic evidence bag with a satchel inside.

“We found this in your garden.”

Jean’s stomach lurched. 

“Do you recognize it?” 

“It looks like Allison’s bag,” she said. 

“We believe it belongs to the missing person, yes. Can you explain what it was doing there?”

Oh god. Jean began to wonder if she’d had some kind of memory lapse, if Allison had visited her at home, if somehow she’d left her bag behind. Had Jean blanked this all out, did she have some monster lurking inside her which did horrific things while her conscious mind was busy dealing with her day to day affairs? No, that was ridiculous. She was well aware that inventing a secret identity wasn’t exactly normal, but she was in total control of both Jean and Diane. There was no monster. 

It was the evil little shit. Of course. She’d forgotten all about the spooky car outside the house, the night she had the massive meltdown and confessed everything to Michael. Well, nearly everything. 

“I’ve remembered now,” she said. “There was a car parked near our house one day. It freaked me out, actually. I told Michael, my husband, about it. He’ll be able to corroborate this.”

“What day was this?”

Jean’s phone had been confiscated so she couldn’t look at it to check. She cast her mind back. It had been Tuesday evening. That was the night when they’d had the big argument and he’d started sleeping on the couch. 

“I didn’t make the connection before, I just thought it was weird, this car hanging around. But now I wonder if it might have been Tom.”

“Can you describe the car?”

“It was old. Gray. Ugly. Not the sort of car you usually see in the area.”

The detective blinked. 

“I think maybe whoever was in that car planted the bag in the garden. We were out the next day, the Wednesday.”

It was hard to believe it was only two days ago.

“Is there anything else you want to tell us?”

Jean glanced at John. 

“No. That’s the only way I can think that it could have got there.”

The detective stared at her in that unsettling way of his. Come on, Jean. Fight this. 

“I mean, if I was going to steal Allison’s bag, I wouldn’t have left it in the garden! It’s a strange place for it to be, don’t you think?”

“Stranger things have happened,” said the detective, and on that note, the interview was terminated.

Jean was taken to a spartan holding cell. There were no luxurious soft furnishings here, but there was a faint smell of vomit. She could barely bring herself to sit on the bed, thinking of all the criminals who had been in here before her. But the alternative was the floor, which was even worse. She perched on the side of the bed and buried her head in her hands. Of all the crises happening in her life, she hadn’t expected the Allison situation to be the one to spiral out of control like this. 

She remembered what Sid had said. She would get through it. Sid would be there for her. But she had no way to communicate with her now. She didn’t even know what time it was. Sid could be sitting in Morandi's already, wondering where she was, thinking Jean had stood her up, was fucking with her again. Please don’t be thinking that, Sid.

She lost track of time. And then the door opened. A police officer escorted her to another room in the station, and after a few minutes Michael walked in. Jean went to hug him, but he flinched and she retreated. The police officer was watching them. 

“What the fuck, Jean?” he hissed at her. 

“This isn’t my fault, Michael! I’ve been framed,” she protested.

“What a goddammed fucking mess.”

“Have you spoken to the police?”

“Yes. They asked me about that car the other night.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I said you talked about it. I know you were in a state about it. But I didn’t see it. It wasn’t there when I got home.”

Jean couldn’t argue with that. 

“And they asked about 309, so I told them how you kept it a secret from me for the past eight years.”

Great, thanks for that. But, again, it was true. She didn’t have a leg to stand on. 

“Jean, what the fuck were you thinking, letting that girl stay there? Do you have something to do with this?”

“No!” She couldn’t believe he of all people was accusing her now.

“All I did was try to help Allison. And this is the thanks I get. That evil boyfriend. I didn’t tell you, but he spiked my yogurt…”

“What?”

“Yes, he came round one day with Allison for a session, and he was aggressive and angry, and my yogurt was on the desk and he put something in it when my back was turned. It made me dizzy and I nearly collapsed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

Because I was at the museum with Sid and she was so caring and kind and I didn’t want you to know. 

“I didn’t want to bother you with my work problems.”

“That’s it, right there. Lack of communication. Hiding things. That’s serious, Jean.”

Michael looked furious. 

Jean sighed. “I know I haven’t behaved well. You don’t have to rub it in. But I am not involved in this.”

“I don’t know how you expect anyone to believe a word you say.”

“So what, you’re going to leave me to rot in jail?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I sent John to help you, didn’t I?”

“Did they tell you about the bag?”

“The one they found in the garden? What’s your explanation for that?”

It almost sounded as if Michael thought she was having an affair with Allison. Jesus Christ. She’d only ever had maternal feelings towards the poor, fucked-up girl. 

“It was Tom! He must have planted it, probably while I was giving my speech. Did you notice anything, when you got home?”

“No. But I wasn’t paying much attention. You’d gone off to your mom’s and I was looking after Dolly. Trying to be a good parent.”

Jean winced. “Is Dolly ok?”

“Yes, I called Nancy and she’s picking her up from school. She doesn’t know you’re here. We’ll tell her you’re away, visiting a friend.

“How long do you think I’ll be in here, Michael?”

“I really don’t know, Jean.”

And on that note, he signaled to the police officer that he was ready to leave, and Jean was taken back to her cell.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to Sid, because I can't resist.

Just as Jean had feared, Sid had gone to Morandi’s and waited for her. After a while, when Jean didn’t show up, she sent a text message.

“I’m here. Where are you?” 

No reply. She waited a few more minutes and then called Jean, but it went to voicemail and she saw no point in leaving a message. What the fuck was going on? Was Jean fucking with her, or was she in trouble? Sid couldn’t sit around doing nothing. She knew where Jean’s office was now, not far away. She found the building and rang the bell.

Gary was working late. He answered the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hi. I’m looking for Jean Holloway.”

“She’s not here.”

Bollocks.

“Do you know where she is? It’s kind of urgent,” Sid persisted.

“She went home at lunchtime. Are you a patient? Do you need to schedule an appointment?”

“No, I don't need an appointment, I’m a friend. Thanks anyway.”

What the fuck? Jean had gone home at lunchtime and hadn’t bothered to let her know? Not good. Sid stood on the sidewalk and smoked a cigarette to calm herself while she thought it over. There were two possible explanations. Either Jean was in trouble - Sid hadn’t forgotten the phone call which had interrupted her fun the previous evening - or she was playing some sort of twisted game again. Sid decided to suspend judgment for the time being. So, what to do? Go to Darien, of course. It would be the third visit in a week. At this rate, she’d need to splash out on a monthly ticket. 

She spent the journey searching the internet, looking up Jean and Michael Holloway, but was unable to find their home address. She turned to the school website and found that a concert was taking place that evening. She had no idea if Jean’s daughter was musical, but it seemed like the best place to start. 

An hour later, she got off the train and walked to the school, tracing the route she’d taken the other night. It was almost half past eight, and music could be heard coming from the auditorium. She walked in, once again surprised at the lax security arrangements, and stood at the back, surveying the audience. There was no sign of Jean or Michael, and she couldn’t see their daughter in the choir. But she wasn’t going to give up this easily. It was time for Plan B. 

The performance came to an end, and Sid went outside as the applause began. She watched the parents coming out with their kids, and waited for a mom to come out with a daughter who looked the same age as Jean’s. At last, a woman who fit the description appeared. Sid went up to her.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Jean Holloway. Do you know her?”

Michelle looked her up and down, taking in the biker jacket, the red and black checked shirt, the ripped black jeans, the wild dark hair, the eyeliner. And the delightful English accent! Who was this girl?

“Yes, I know Jean. But she’s not here this evening. Dolly’s not in the choir.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“Dolly? I expect she’s at home.”

“No, Jean.”

God, this woman’s annoying. Be nice. 

“I need to talk to her very urgently, but I don’t know where she lives.” 

“Well, I don’t think I should give out her address to a total stranger…”

I’m not a total fucking stranger though am I? I’m her bit on the side and I know how to make her very, very happy.

“But I could call her for you, if you like?” volunteered Michelle.

“I’ve been trying to call her, but she isn’t picking up,” said Sid. 

“Let me.”

“Thanks.”

Sid would fucking kill Jean if she answered the phone to this woman, after giving her the silent treatment all evening. But it turned out that there was no need for Jean to die just yet. Michelle’s call went to voicemail too. 

“Hi Jean! Just trying to get hold of you. We’re at the school and there’s a young lady here… what’s your name?”

“Sidney.”

“She says her name’s Sidney, and she’s looking for you. Call me back when you get this.”

Michelle hung up. “No luck.”

Holly came out with Dylan, and joined them. 

“Michelle! Wasn’t that wonderful? Didn’t they sing beautifully?”

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed Sid. “Who’s this?”

“Sidney,” said Michelle. “She’s looking for Jean, who isn’t answering her phone.”

Sid was aware of Holly’s appraising gaze. You’re quite a novelty for these soccer moms. Something to think about later when they go home to their husbands and pretend to be too tired to have sex.

Holly turned to Michelle. “That’s strange. I wonder if...”

“What?”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I was driving past their house this afternoon and I saw a police car in the drive!”

“What?!” Michelle got her phone out again immediately.

“I thought maybe they’d been burgled. I was planning to call Jean to ask if she was all right but then I got caught up in the preparations for the concert and forgot about it.”

Michelle was on the phone again.

“I’m calling Michael,” she explained to Holly and Sid. 

Once again, it went to voicemail. “Oh, hi Michael, it’s Michelle Kessler here. I was just trying to get hold of Jean, she’s not picking up. Could you ask her to call me back? Thanks.”

Another mom came up to them, kid in tow. 

“Eleanor!” said Holly. “Did you hear about the police car outside Jean’s house this afternoon?”

Eleanor looked around warily and saw Sid. “Who’s this?”

“Sidney. She’s looking for Jean and we can’t find her. She’s not picking up.”

“Well, you must promise to keep this among yourselves…”

Michelle, Holly and Sid crowded round.

“I spoke to my brother this afternoon, you know he works for the local police force, and he said…”

There was a dramatic pause.

“… that Jean’s been arrested!”

“What?!” The soccer moms were outraged, while Sid felt the earth giving way beneath her.

“They took her back to the police station in New York. It has to do with a missing person inquiry. Apparently they found something suspicious in her garden!”

The soccer moms had never heard anything so exciting in their lives.

“Jean! That’s ridiculous. I mean, I know she could let rip sometimes…” said Michelle. 

“Like at Dolly’s birthday party,” said Holly. 

“Well, exactly. But I can’t believe she has anything to do with a missing person.”

“No, she and Michael are squeaky clean. She has it all, really, career mom, perfect house, admittedly Dolly has some issues but Michael is the perfect husband, so handsome and caring. She has the perfect life! She’s the last person you’d expect to be caught up in something like this!”

Sid had heard enough, and walked away. It was only when she was out of sight that they noticed she had disappeared. Holly said what they had all been thinking. 

“Where did that girl go? And who was she, anyway?”


	8. Chapter 8

Sid was on the train back to Grand Central, frantically googling missing persons. It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Sid’s legendary memory stood her in good stead. As soon as she saw the photo of Allison Adams, she recognized the girl she’d seen coming out of 309 the previous week, when she’d been hanging around in the hope of seeing Diane. 

And Allison had been with that creepy drug dealer, Tom. Who came to Sid’s own apartment literally the next morning to drop off some shit for Francis. She hadn’t liked the way he’d looked at her, there was definitely something off about him, and she had no qualms about dobbing him in to the cops, even if it did mean fucking up Francis’s supply chain. She rang the missing persons hotline. They asked her if she could come in to the station right away. Sure, no problem.

It was approaching eleven when Sid got there. She walked up to the front desk and told them she’d called earlier, about Allison. They asked her to wait while they paged the detective. A couple of minutes later, he emerged from the back office. 

“Sidney Pierce? I’m Detective Kelly. Can you come with me, please?”

He led her into an interview room and they sat down at the table. 

“So, I understand you have some information about Allison Adams?”

“Yes. I saw her on the night of Tuesday 22nd. With a man.”

“And can you tell me where this was?”

“West 81st Street.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Yes. I have a good memory. When I saw her photo on the missing person's list, I thought I ought to come forward.”

The detective nodded.

“And do you remember what time it was?”

“It was about half ten. They came out of an apartment block, just near the intersection with West End Avenue, and walked past me on the street.”

“What did the man look like?”

“I’d say he was in his late twenties. Medium height, dark hair down to here. He had a scruffy little beard. He was wearing a denim jacket.”

“If I show you some photos, can you tell me if you recognize him?”

“Sure.”

“Wait here, please.”

The detective left the room. Sid looked at the mirror which ran along one wall, and wondered if there was anyone behind it watching. Her knowledge of police stations was largely based on TV shows, who knew if it was like that in real life. Detective Kelly returned a few minutes later with a folder. He opened it and took out some photos which he spread on the table. Sid scanned them, and without hesitation pointed to Tom. 

“That’s him.”

“Right.”

He handed her a pen.

“Could you please put a mark on that photo, for the record?”

Sid did the honors. “Hope you get him. And I hope she’s all right. Allison.”

“You’ve been very helpful, Ms Pierce. Thank you. Can you wait a few more minutes? I need you to sign a statement.”

“Of course.”

He left the room again, and Sid distracted herself with her phone. Eventually he came back with a statement for her to sign, and she filled in a form with her contact details, then she was free to leave. She walked down the front steps and considered her next move. She glanced up, saw a CCTV camera over the station door and walked down the street.

Detective Kelly had been impressed with Sid’s direct approach and in his opinion, she was a credible witness. Jean Holloway had been reluctant to tell him about 309 but it was understandable given her position as Allison’s therapist. He was starting to think she was telling the truth after all and she had a young daughter, she was hardly a flight risk. Plus, her husband’s law firm had a fearsome reputation and he could do without any accusations of wrongful arrest. 

Half an hour later, Jean walked out of the police station. She stopped at the bottom of the steps and got her phone out of her bag. Fuck. Eighteen missed calls and twelve text messages. She walked down the street, flicking through them, her hand shaky after her ordeal. She became aware of a presence, someone leaning by a lamp post, stubbing out a cigarette. Jean was so jumpy that her first thought was that it might be Tom. Then her vision came into focus and she saw that it was Sid, looking at her with an intense expression. 

Sid didn’t speak but with a nod indicated a side street and Jean followed her down it. Once they had gone some distance, Sid stopped in a doorway and Jean joined her. Sid gave her a massive bear hug. 

“Best not to do this right outside the police station. Cameras.”

“How did you know…”

“It’s the talk of Darien.”

“Oh, fuck!”

“But you’re out now, right?”

Jean was trying to understand what had just happened. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Told them I saw Allison leaving your apartment with a bloke.”

Jean blinked, trying to take this in. After hours rotting in the cell, her brain wasn’t as sharp as usual. 

“You told them what?”

“Look, don’t be mad, all right. I was waiting near your apartment that night, you’d given me your address at last, and I was hoping to see you. I saw them coming out. The detective showed me some photos and I was able to identify the bloke.”

Jean processed this information.

“And then they let me go.”

“Result!”

“So I have you to thank for this. I can’t believe you found out what was going on.”

“Well, I went to Darien and had a chat with your friends. Michelle and some others. Interesting bunch.”

“You met Michelle?” 

“Yeah. Not sure what she made of me.”

Jean snorted. 

“Better warn you, you might have competition now. One of the others was definitely checking me out.”

They giggled and Jean wrapped her arms firmly round Sid.

“Those bitches can’t have you. I want you all to myself.”

“Bloody hell. Possessive much?”

“You fucking saved me, Sid! Do you have any idea how awful it was in that cell? The detective had it in for me. I thought I was going to be in there forever.”

“Sidney Pierce, knight in shining armor, at your service.” 

“No kidding. Thank you. I owe you one.”

“You still owe me one from yesterday,” said Sid. “Your debt is increasing by the day. Not to mention standing me up this evening. I was sitting by myself in Morandi’s for half an hour like a complete pillock.”

“Come on, there were extenuating circumstances,” said Jean. 

Sid grinned. “Being locked up in a police cell, what kind of excuse do you call that? Oh, all right. I’ve got enough debts to be going on with.”

“Believe me, I’m going to make it up to you.” 

The kiss lasted for several minutes.

“If you carry on like that, I’m going to have to fuck you right here and now in this doorway,” said Sid when they eventually came up for air. 

Jean laughed. “Easy, tiger. I don’t want to get arrested again! I wish I could come back to Bushwick with you, but you know I have to go home.”

“When will I see you again?” 

“Soon, I promise. I won’t forget.”

She’d stolen Sid’s line. It had to be a good sign.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little steamy in the bathroom now. It would be a shame for S2 not to have something like this...

Jean had sent Michael a text to let him know she was out and on her way home. He was still up when she arrived, even though it was one in the morning. 

“You got out then.”

“Yes. A witness came forward who saw Allison leaving 309 with Tom, so they decided to believe me after all.”

“Good. Ok, well, it’s late. I’m going to bed. I’m taking Dolly out tomorrow. We can talk tomorrow night.”

Jean nodded and went upstairs. It was clear which way this was going. He hadn’t even bothered to ask how she was. She changed into the tiger top which had mysteriously found its way into her wardrobe and went into the bathroom, taking her phone with her.

“You still up?” 

Sid had been trying and failing to get to sleep, still wired after what had happened earlier. She read the message and immediately dialed Jean’s number. 

“Are you home now? Everything all right?”

The sound of Sid’s voice made everything better. 

“I’m home. In the bathroom. Michael’s downstairs. Are you in Bushwick?”

“Yeah. Trying to sleep but it’s hard because I can’t stop thinking about you. Going to need a lot of coffee tomorrow.”

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Early shift.”

“Maybe I should go then…”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

Jean laughed, and made herself comfortable on the floor. “All right. I’m still here.”

“Good. Talk to me.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“I say lots of things.”

“About making me beg for forgiveness.”

It was Sid’s turn to laugh. 

“You’ve been thinking about that, have you? What a coincidence. So have I."

“I know I said we’d do it another time…”

“No backing out, Diane.” Sid’s voice had acquired a menacing, raspy tone. 

“I’m not backing out, I promise.”

“Good.”

“I’m just a little nervous about it, and I wondered if you might give me a few clues about what to expect…”

“Oh, I see!” Sid’s delight came across loud and clear. “You want me to tell you what I’m going to do to you? But Diane, I remember you saying you could shock me. So you tell me. What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

Jean hadn’t expected her own question to be turned round on her like this. She hesitated.

“Come on. Tell me what I’m going to do to you,” demanded Sid. “I bet you were thinking about this when you were locked up in the police cell, weren’t you?”

“Maybe…”

“I knew it!”

“Give me a minute. All right. Let’s say, I’m outside your apartment, knocking on your door.”

“And I open it. What are you wearing?”

“My gray coat.”

Sid remembered the one, Jean had been wearing it in the car. Sid had never met anyone who had so many coats, all of them utterly fabulous. 

“So you come inside and I help you take it off.”

“What are you wearing?” asked Jean.

“Your call. What do you want me to be wearing?”

“A dress.”

“What color?”

“Red. Scarlet.”

“That’s very precise,” teased Sid, mentally filing the information away.

“I was in that cell for hours. And I think you’d look good in a red dress. It would be... decadent.”

“Consider it done. Continue.”

“So you’ve taken off my coat, right?”

“What’s underneath it?”

“Um, well, I’ve come from work so… maybe a black skirt, black boots, white blouse?”

“Very professional. Your demure look. Now what?”

“You’re very rude and you don’t offer me a drink.”

“Damn right I fucking don’t. You don’t deserve a drink.”

“Instead, you take me by surprise and push me up against the wall.”

“Hard,” said Sid.

Jean was breathing so loudly that Sid could hear it.

“Diane! Is it getting steamy in that bathroom?”

Jean laughed. 

“I knew I should have fucked you in the doorway. That would have sorted you out. Then you wouldn’t have been needing to call me in the early hours of the morning for this kind of smutty talk.”

“True.” Jean was regretting not having taken up the offer now. 

“So I’ve pushed you up against the wall, hard.”

“And you kiss me. Hard.”

“That goes without saying. And then what?”

“Then, I think you order me to take off my blouse.”

“Slow down! Start at the top.”

“All right, you order me to take it off, and I undo my top button, and my blouse opens just a tiny bit.”

“What? That’s no fucking good.”

“So then I undo the next button.”

“And what happens then?”

“Then you put your hand there.”

“Where?”

“On my neck.”

“I can feel your pulse.”

“I told you, I’m nervous. My heart is beating fast. You keep your hand there as I undo the other buttons. And I’m looking you in the eye as I do it.”

She could hear the sound of Sid breathing now.

“Then I open up the blouse,” continued Jean. 

“And I like what I see.”

“But I’m still wearing a bra.”

“Describe it to me.”

“It’s black and lacy. Very fancy and expensive.”

“Only the best for you. That’s going to have to come off.”

“All right, you take off my blouse and then reach round and unclasp my bra and it comes off too.”

“And then?”

“You’re still looking at me, and I feel very…”

Jean closed her eyes, picturing the scene in her head. 

“Very what?”

“Exposed.”

“You should,” said Sid. “I’m going to take my time with this pair.”

Jean’s imagination went into overdrive.

“What are you going to do to them?”

“Stroke them. Tease them a little bit. Kiss them. I’m still being gentle. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

“Hang on a minute.”

Jean moved the phone into her left hand. Her right hand was needed elsewhere.

Sid lowered her voice. “Are you touching yourself?” 

“Maybe…” whispered Jean, trying to keep the noise level down in case Michael was listening outside the door. 

“You filthy little minx!”

“You are too, I bet.”

Sid laughed. “Keep going.”

“You’re taking your time playing with my breasts, you’re enjoying this and you can see the effect it’s having on me.”

“It’s having quite an effect on you.”

“And now you order me to take off my boots, and I do.”

“That’s good. Now I’m taller than you. I like that.”

“And then you spin me around and unzip my skirt, and slowly remove it.”

“Is that some kind of code for groping your arse?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so. I’m not letting that opportunity pass me by. And what do you have on underneath that skirt?”

“Silky black panties.”

“Expensive and luxurious?”

“Of course. Even on a work day.”

“Why is it I get this feeling that you spend most of your time at work asking your patients about their sex lives?”

“Their sex lives are pretty fucking dull, believe me.”

“I don’t believe you, but anyway, you can keep the fancy pants on for the time being.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be coming off soon enough.”

“So now I’m standing up against the wall, completely naked except for those, and you’re standing behind me. You’re still in your tight red dress.”

“Oh, it’s tight now, is it? That’s new. And then?”

“Then you lean over and whisper in my ear.”

“What do I say?”

“That you’re going to make me your slave for the night.”

“Fuck! That’s exactly what I would say.”

“And I ask,” Jean put on a theatrical, shocked, breathy voice. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a damsel in distress now, are you? It means you have to do whatever I command, obviously.” 

“And you know what I’m thinking?”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering what will happen if I resist. If I refuse to obey.”

“You’re already wondering that, and I haven’t even ordered you to do anything yet!”

“I know!”

“And you’re supposed to be begging for my forgiveness!”

“I can’t help it. I just really want to know what you’ll do.”

“You’re asking for it now, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Tell me…”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Tell me.”

“You’re giving me no choice. I’m going to have to…”

“For fuck’s sake, tell me!”

Sid lowered her voice again. “Punish you.”

Jean stifled a groan. 

“Does that make you wet?” 

All Sid could hear was Jean breathing raggedly. Guess that answered the question. 

“Do you want to know how you’re going to be punished?”

“Yes!”

“Too bad. You’re going to have to wait to find out.”

Jean wanted to scream. “Sidney! How can you be so fucking cruel.”

Sid gave an evil laugh. “Seems like you’ve been dying for some cruelty. All in good time. I will see you soon, all right? Get your shit together and call me tomorrow.”

Jean put the phone down and finished herself off, which didn’t take long, visions flickering through her mind of what might Sid might do to her. She took a shower and went to bed a free citizen, with a big smile on her face.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day, Michael took Dolly to the cinema and Jean spent the day making phone calls and catching up on home admin and domestic chores. Occasionally she looked out of the window, wondering if Tom might be out there. She didn’t feel safe while he was still at large. At least she had the big shaggy dog to protect her.

In the afternoon, Michelle came round. Jean was expecting her, but jumped nevertheless when the doorbell rang. Michelle came in and Jean went to make some tea. She felt like putting a good slug of bourbon in it, but it was too early for that. She didn’t need to add alcoholism to her list of problems right now. 

Michelle was dying to know what had happened. Jean told the story, giving as little detail as possible.

“Oh my god, you poor thing,” said Michelle. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“It was one of the worst experiences of my life, to be honest. The cell was disgusting.”

Michelle twitched. “No wonder you’re doing laundry.”

“I’ve had about ten showers since I got home.” More because of the conversation with Sid last night than because of the police cell, but she wasn’t going to tell Michelle that. 

“You need any pills?”

Michelle hereby cemented her reputation as the suburban equivalent to Tom the drug dealer.

“I have some, but thanks for the offer.”

“We were all intrigued by that Sidney girl who showed up at the concert.”

I bet you were. Hands off. She is mine, and mine alone. 

“Sid? She’s a friend. I was meant to be meeting her after work, so she was concerned when I didn’t show up.”

“How do you know her?”

Jean had anticipated this question and had her answer well-prepared. 

“She’s a student, writing a paper about the reasons people go into therapy. She found me on the internet and contacted me, so I’ve been helping her out, sharing my experiences. Keeping all my patients anonymous, of course.” She didn’t need the cover story getting back to Gary.

“You must have made quite an impression on her, Jean, the way she came all the way out here looking for you like that.”

“We have a connection.”

“I have to admit I was a little suspicious to start with, you know, she looked a bit…”

Insanely beautiful?

“Not the sort of person we normally see in Darien. But she was very concerned about you, so I did my best to help. But you didn’t pick up.”

“No, they took my phone off me.”

“And how’s Michael taking it all?”

“He was very helpful,” lied Jean. “He doesn’t do criminal law himself, but he got me a lawyer, and I’m sure that helped with me being released.”

“And there’s no news about the missing girl?”

“No. It’s terrible. What I went through was bad enough, but she’s been missing for days now. I just hope she’s still alive.”

The conversation had become dark. Michelle left soon afterwards, and Jean was alone in the house again. No doubt the gossip network was already springing into action. She wondered what time Michael would be home, and what he was going to say to her this evening. At least then she would know where she stood. 

She remembered that he still had a key to 309, and went upstairs to have a rummage through his jacket pockets, but there was no sign of it. Damn. She’d have to get a new lock put on the door. That wasn’t a bad idea anyway, given that Tom knew about 309. She really should get some proper security installed. 

Her phone rang. Detective Kelly. Shit, what did he want now?

“Hello?”

“Dr Holloway? I’m just calling to give you an update. You mentioned a gray car when we spoke yesterday. We’ve been looking at the traffic cameras and we’ve been able to identify a vehicle which matches your description.”

It hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all. 

“We got the plate, and we managed to trace the car, but it was abandoned. We think there’s a strong possibility that Allison Adams was in it at some point. We’ve taken samples.”

“Not… blood?”

“No. Just hair, and fibers.”

Thank god for that. There was still a chance Allison was alive. 

“Well, thanks for letting me know.”

“We haven’t given up, Dr Holloway. If you remember anything else which could be significant, call me.”

“Of course.”

Just then, the front door opened. Michael and Dolly were back. Jean bent down to greet her daughter.

“Did you have a nice time, sweetie?”

“It was great!” Dolly ran round the room pretending to be a superhero but there were so many Avengers these days, Jean wasn’t sure which one. Not many of them were women, but Dolly with her short hair wasn’t bothered about that. The lecture on the Bechdel test could wait till she was older. 

For once, Dolly didn’t have any homework to do, so Jean put a pizza in the oven and poured herself a nice big glass of Sicilian red to pass the time as it heated up. 

They made it through dinner pretending to be normal and then Dolly went to play on her ipad, Michael went upstairs for a minute and Jean checked her phone. There was a message from an unknown number.

“You fucking bitch. When I get hold of you, I’m going to…” Then a long list of unpleasant threats. 

Jesus Christ. She sat down, shaking. There was no doubt about who had sent it. The little fucker. She wasn’t going to take this lying down. Pouring herself a bourbon on the rocks, she called the detective.

“Hi, it’s Jean Holloway. Sorry for calling so late.”

“It’s fine. I’m still in the office. Do you have something for me?”

“Yes. I just received a threatening text message.”

She told him what it had said, and gave him the number.

“Thanks. I’ll look into it. But he’s probably using a burner, so we may not be able to trace it.”

“Please let me know as soon as you have any news.”

“I will.”

She hung up as Michael came downstairs. Jean decided not to tell him about the message, it would only make matters worse. 

“We need to talk.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days. This has all gone too far. I’m concerned about Dolly. This psycho actually came to our house, you put her in danger. And she’s noticed that I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Jean nodded. “All right. What do you want to do?”

“I think it’s time for us to end this. You’re selfish, and irresponsible, and I’ve had enough. You’re not fit to look after Dolly. You can still have access, but I think she should live with me.”

“What? You have no idea how to look after a small girl. You never do the school run, or the pick ups. You don’t do laundry, or cook.”

“I can heat up a frozen pizza just as well as you. And I’ll get someone to help me.”

“Alexis?”

“No.”

“Catherine?”

“Maybe.”

Jean saw red.

“I fucking knew it. That fucking…”

“Can you blame me, the way you’ve been behaving? I’m not an idiot. I know you were fucking someone, while you were pretending to be Diane Hart. I saw you’d had someone round at 309.”

Jean took a swig of bourbon.

“You’re not denying it, I see.”

“No. I’m not denying it.”

“Who was it?”

“What does it matter to you?”

“Was it a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” He slammed his fist on the table. “Who?”

“You don’t know her. And she didn’t know I was married. The situation is my responsibility.”

“I think you should go. Now. Before I do something I might regret.”

She’d never seen him so angry. She got her keys, her phone and her bag, put on a coat and walked out of the door. Her marriage was over.


	11. Chapter 11

Jean stormed to the car and called her mother. She drove to Nancy’s, looking in the rear view mirror from time to time to check for anyone following her, but the coast was clear. She arrived at Nancy’s a few minutes later and explained what had happened. None of it came as a surprise.

“It’s that girl, isn’t it. The one I saw getting out of your car, last week.”

Jean nodded. 

“You said she was a friend.”

“Yes. Her name’s Sidney. She’s a musician. She’s very talented, actually…”

“I’m sure she is,” said Nancy. The girl had undoubtedly possessed a certain je ne sais quoi. Nancy just hoped she wasn’t going to break her daughter’s heart. 

“How old is she, Jeanie?”

“I don’t know. Late twenties, I think.”

“Hmmm. That’s quite an age gap.”

Thanks, Mom. Rub it in, why don’t you.

“Just be careful. I don’t want to be picking up the pieces when she gets bored and moves on to the next thing.”

“Mom, please. I know what I’m doing. Look, I need to go to bed. I’m shattered. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Fine. Sleep well.”

Jean went upstairs to her childhood bedroom and immediately called Sid. 

“Finally! I’ve been waiting all fucking day. What’s going on?”

The tiger wasn’t bored with her yet. Jean smiled. 

“I’m at my mom’s.”

“What are you doing there?” 

“Just had a massive fight with Michael.”

“Ah...”

“I’m moving back to 309 tomorrow.”

The monthly ticket to Darien wouldn’t be needed after all. 

“Can I come and see you?”

“God, yes. Give me time to get my stuff sorted out. Come over about six?”

“See you then.”

Jean hung up. The prospect of seeing Sid was the only thing keeping her sane right now.

The next day, she sent Michael a message to let him know she was coming back to pick up her stuff. The house was empty when she arrived. That was fine by her, no awkward scenes in front of Dolly. She packed up her favorite clothes, toiletries and jewelry. She thought about taking the kitchen scissors to Michael’s expensive suits to get him back for the Catherine thing, but settled for stealing a few choice bottles of wine from the cellar. Then she drove to the apartment, listening to Marfa Public Radio all the way. She got her things unpacked and felt the oppression of Darien lifting. Here in the city, she could be true to herself. 

The intercom buzzed and Jean let Sid in. She was looking exceptionally alluring tonight in that little black dress and the big boots which showed off her legs to such great effect.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Jean with a smile. “Come on in.”

“I was in a bit of a rush. Haven’t found a red dress yet. But I can do this.”

Sid pushed Jean back against the wall and kissed her. 

“The rest of it will have to wait. It has to be at my place.”

Jean nodded. “Still keeping me in suspense.”

Another kiss.

“So, you’ve moved back here then? How are you feeling?” asked Sid. 

“It’s the best place for me to be right now. Let’s have a drink.”

Jean went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of Bulleit. No annoying husband making snarky comments here, she’d drink what the hell she liked. Jean sat on the couch and Sid lay along it with her head in Jean’s lap. Jean ran her hands through Sid’s hair. 

“Thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it.” 

Sid could tell something was up.

“What’s wrong? Is it Michael?”

Jean sighed. “It’s over between us, and he wants to keep Dolly. I haven’t decided what to do about it yet. But something else happened, which freaked me out a little, to be honest.”

Jean reached for her phone and showed Sid the text message.

Sid frowned. “Fucking hell. That’s scary.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s from Tom, Allison’s boyfriend. He hates me, because I was trying to help her get off drugs and get away from him. And he knows about this apartment.”

They both looked at the door. 

“It’s locked, right?” asked Sid.

“Fuck yes,” said Jean. “And I’m going to get the locks changed, and put on some bolts.”

“Good. Did you tell the police about this?”

“Yes, but the detective didn’t think they’d be able to trace it.”

Sid thought for a second. 

“I might have an idea.”

“What?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

Jean looked at Sid. Please, don’t let it be some unwelcome revelation about Sam, or Talia, or anyone else.

“That Tom bloke.”

“What about him?”

Surely Sid hadn’t been fucking him too? No, don’t go there. She has better taste than that. 

“I told you Francis deals, and he sometimes keeps his stash at mine, right?”

“Yes.”

“He stayed over at mine that night, the night I saw Allison. I made him sleep in the hammock, before you start getting any ideas.”

Jean nodded, relieved. 

“And the next morning, his dealer came round.”

“Tom.”

“Yes.”

“So you’ve met him.”

“Yes. He was weird, I didn’t like him. But I can get his number off Francis. We have rehearsal tomorrow.”

Jean’s eyes glowed. “That’s brilliant, Sidney. Then what?”

“Give it to the police?” suggested Sid.

“No fucking way,” said Jean. “I’m not going near that detective again. He’d ask all sorts of awkward questions about how you got it. We’ll have to take matters into our own hands.”

She poured some more bourbon. Really, it should have been scotch, if she was going to play at being a hard-boiled detective, but never mind. Her femme fatale wasn’t wearing the right costume either.

Sid read her mind. 

“Hope you’ve got a trenchcoat in that wardrobe.” 

That was actually the one style of coat that Jean didn’t have, but there were plenty of others which would do. 

“I could set up a meeting,” said Sid. “Tom doesn’t know that I know you. He just knows I’m a friend of Francis. I could ask him to come round to my place tomorrow night for a deal and then we could get someone to track him.”

“He’s dangerous, Sid. I don’t like the idea of him visiting you in your apartment.”

“I can look after myself. And I can’t think of anything better, unless you have some way to track his phone.”

“Couldn’t Francis do the deal with Tom instead?”

“Francis is very protective of his connections. There’s no way I can let him know we’re going after Tom.”

Despite Jean’s misgivings, Sid’s plan did seem the best option.

“All right, but please be careful, Sidney.”

“Who could track him? I’d get Zal to do it, but he’s out of town.”

Jean thought about it for a second. 

“I know someone. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

“A woman?” 

“Don’t get jealous. She’s just someone I know, she won’t stand out too much, and I think there’s a good chance she’ll do it if I ask her.”

“I see.”

Jean thought it best to change the subject. “This is fucking inspired, Sidney. You’re a miracle worker.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“We haven’t got him yet.”

Sid growled, and Jean bent over and kissed her. 

“I’m only teasing. Of course you do. Come on.”

Jean took Sid’s hand and led her into the bedroom. Sid took off her boots and then Jean helped her take off the dress. Jean gestured for Sid to lie down on the bed and sat astride her. She knew exactly what she wanted, and she was going to get it.


	12. Chapter 12

Sid lay back on the bed, looking up at Jean with a mixture of awe and lust. She’d never seen Jean so confident and commanding, and it was one hell of a turn-on. 

“I’m still waiting for you to tell me what you’re going to do to me,” said Jean.

“And I told you already, it has to be at my place.”

Jean stroked Sid’s cheek, then leaned down and brushed her lips with her own. Lips like sugar, she thought, vaguely remembering a song from the 80s. Sugar kisses. 

“Why?” she whispered. 

“Because there are things I need.” 

“What things?”

“You had your preview, the other night. Now I told you, you have to wait.” 

“Is there no chance of a reprieve?” asked Jean.

“None. It’s against the rules.” 

Sid’s eyes shone with mischief, and it was driving Jean crazy. 

“Who makes the rules?”

“I do.” 

Jean felt Sid shift underneath her. Was she trying to shake her off, to get on top of her? Jean wasn’t having any of it. She put her hands on Sid’s shoulders, pinning her down. 

“You stay right there.”

The eye contact was intense. Neither of them wanted to be the first to look away. 

“Why do you get to make the rules?” asked Jean.

“Because you owe me.”

“So no reprieve, not even if I do this?”

Jean slowly traced her right hand down Sid’s body, unable to get enough of that flawless skin. Then the hand found its way inside Sid’s leopard-print panties and her fingers began to carry out a gentle exploration. Sid closed her eyes. The things Jean was doing to her required all her attention. 

“Well?” demanded Jean. 

“You don’t get out of it that easily. But you can keep trying...”

It was time for Jean to deploy her secret weapon. She eased off the panties, pushed Sid’s legs apart and went down on her. Jean couldn’t believe how intoxicating Sid tasted, sweeter than the finest Sauternes. As for Sid, she was practically on fire. Being licked by Jean was everything she had dreamed about for weeks. She was perilously close to the edge and fought it with all her might, in the hope that this heavenly experience would continue forever. 

“Not even now?” asked Jean.

“Oh god…”

Was Sid going to relent? Of course not.

“Not even now.”

Right, thought Jean. That was it. 

“Seems I have nothing to lose then. No need to be gentle.”

Sid shivered with anticipation as Jean sat on top of her again, leaned back and fucked her with one finger, then two, then three, hard and fast. Jean liked nothing better than being in control. A feeling of power surged through her, and judging from the way Sid’s body was reacting, how wet she was, the sounds she was making and the way she was writhing with every touch, there was no doubt that her girl was having the time of her life. 

Jean felt Sid convulsing and she arched her back, twitching and gasping for breath. Jean waited for the tremors to subside, then lay back on the bed next to her and put her arms round her. Words were unnecessary. She knew there was no way Sidney was going back to Bushwick that evening. 

The next day, Jean left Sid sleeping while she nipped out to the nearby French bakery for almond raspberry croissants. Breakfast was served in bed, and Jean strongly suspected that Sid was spilling crumbs all over herself deliberately so that Jean would have to lick them off. Monday morning had never been so much fun.

But real life had that annoying habit of rearing its ugly head. 

“What time do you have to be at the Rabbit Hole?”

“Eleven. What time do you have to be in work?”

“It’s my morning off, but I’ll travel down with you and keep you company.”

They took a shower together, which involved a lot of soap and giggling. The sight of Sid with slicked back wet hair wearing only a skimpy white towel would have sent Jean straight back to bed if only there had been time. She filed it away for future reference instead. 

Sid hadn’t brought any spare clothes with her, so Jean offered to lend her some underwear. 

“Expensive and luxurious?” asked Sid.

“Of course!” 

Sid put on the bra and panties. “I’ll be thinking about you all day, wearing these.”

Again, the sight was almost enough to send Jean straight back to bed, but she had to make do with the consolation prize of a long, deep kiss. 

They finished getting dressed, left the apartment and walked to the subway arm in arm. Jean was grateful for Sid’s confident presence. It was like having her own personal bodyguard. Sid escorted Jean all the way to her office and they stood outside on the sidewalk. It was always so hard to say goodbye. 

“Good luck this evening,” said Jean.

“Thanks. I’ll call you as soon as rehearsal’s over.”

Sid gave Jean a final passionate kiss, causing passersby to turn their heads, then swaggered off down the street. Jean watched until she was out of sight. 

Now back to work. Jean steeled herself, and walked into the office. She’d timed it badly. The others were having their group patient review session, when they sat around chatting and generally failing to fix these fucking people. Jean’s methods were so much more effective. 

They’d definitely been talking about her, judging from the guilty looks on their faces. 

“Hi, everyone.” She gave them her best fake smile. 

“Jean! We weren’t expecting you until this afternoon,” said Gary.

“Uh, well, I have some catching up to do from last week, so I thought I’d come in early.”

“Right. Well, we’re just finishing up here,” he glanced around, and the others nodded. Toadying fuckers, apart from Larin who was looking at her suspiciously. 

“Would you have a few minutes to come into my office?”

Fuck.

“Sure.” Let’s get it over with.

She sat down and Gary fiddled about with some files. 

“I had a call from Detective Kelly on Friday.”

“I see.” She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“I understand you were arrested, in connection with the Allison Adams case?”

“Yes, but they let me out on Friday evening.”

“He told me you let Allison stay at an apartment in the Upper West Side?”

“It’s true. But only because I was trying to help her.” 

“You realize that’s a clear breach of professional boundaries?”

“Allison was in trouble, and I reacted as a human being. I thought about my own daughter, and how I would feel if she was in that kind of trouble, and I helped her. If that’s a breach of professional boundaries, then guilty as charged. But I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to her and I could have done something to stop it.”

It was a heartfelt speech, and Gary wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I hear what you’re saying…” Like hell you do.

“But, as therapists, we’re required to uphold certain rules…”

“Gary, believe me, I understand that. This was an exceptional situation. I don’t make a habit of letting my patients stay at my mom’s apartment. But I’m a good therapist. You’ve seen my ratings. My patient feedback scores are the best in this practice.”

Exactly how Jean had achieved this was a matter of speculation, and having a reputation for being the hottest therapist in New York City might have had something to do with it. But Gary couldn’t argue with the cold hard numbers. 

“All right. Look, I have to tell you we’ve decided to open disciplinary proceedings against you, but it’s too early to say exactly where that will lead. You’ll be getting a letter.”

“Fine,” said Jean. “But I love my job, I love helping my patients, and I intend to fight this all the way.”


	13. Chapter 13

Jean went into her office. How much water had flowed under the bridge since she was last in here. Now she was living a different life altogether. She sat down at the desk and collected her thoughts. Time to get Melissa on board. Jean sent her a text and took the bracelet out of her pocket and slipped it onto her left wrist. She hadn’t wanted Sid to see it earlier and start asking questions. Melissa replied immediately, agreeing to a meeting. Good. Jean searched the police websites. It didn’t take long to find an image of Tom, and she printed it out and put it in her bag. 

Jean spent the afternoon seeing her patients and apologizing for the emergency which had caused her to be absent on Friday afternoon. At six o’clock, she put on her coat and made her way to the cafe with the stained glass windows where Melissa worked.

“Melissa. How are you?”

Melissa talked about how she was getting her life back together and responded well to Jean’s words of encouragement. After several minutes of that, Jean steered the conversation towards her real objective.

“Listen, I was wondering if you might be able to help me out with something. I can pay you.”

The hook was baited. The offer of money caught Melissa’s attention, and her longing for Jean’s approval and affection did the rest. 

“What is it?”

Jean got out the picture of Tom and showed it to her. 

“This guy, Tom Devins. He’s a creep, and he’s been hassling me.”

She showed Melissa the horrible text message from the unknown number.

“Oh my god, Jean.” Melissa was suitably shocked. 

Jean explained that a friend of a friend was going to get Tom’s number and arrange a meeting with him.

“I want to find out where he lives, but I can’t follow him, because he’d recognize me. 

“So you want me to do it?”

“If you’re willing. I should warn you, he’s a very dangerous individual.”

“Right.” 

Melissa nodded, taking in the seriousness of what she was being asked to do, and feeling flattered that Jean considered her a suitable candidate for the task. 

“But he doesn’t know you, and he’ll have no reason to suspect he’s being followed. If he notices you, get away as quickly as you can.”

“I understand. I’m in, Jean.”

“Here’s some money.”

Jean knew Melissa was short of cash, and slid a couple of fifties across the table. 

“There’s no need, I want to help you.”

“No, I insist.”

Melissa pocketed them without further protest. Jean explained that she would let her know the time and the place as soon as possible. It would be in Bushwick tomorrow evening, with any luck.

“My shift ends at seven, so I can be over there about eight,” said Melissa. 

Jean smiled. “You’re a star. I knew I could count on you, Melissa.”

Melissa glowed with pride and she gave Jean a fierce hug which lasted several seconds too long. I’d better be careful with this one, thought Jean. 

She went back to 309, had some food, then went on the internet and looked up how to get a divorce. She’d sent Michael a message earlier asking when she could talk to Dolly, but he hadn’t replied and it was probably too late now. At last, her phone rang. It was Sid.

“Well, it wasn’t easy, but I got it!”

Jean punched the air in triumph, while Sid told her all about how she had distracted Francis and then borrowed his phone. 

“He didn’t suspect a thing! So am I going to text this fucker or what?”

“Yes. Can you suggest eight thirty? That will give Melissa time to get in position.” Shit, she hadn’t meant to tell Sid the name of her mystery contact. Never mind. Sid didn’t seem to have registered it. 

“Sure thing. Ok, I’m going to do it now. I’ll call you back.”

There was an agonizing twenty minute wait and then the phone rang again.

“It’s all set up. Eight thirty at mine, tomorrow night.”

“That’s great, Sidney.”

“Come see me at the Rabbit Hole tomorrow morning?”

“You’re on. What time are you there?”

“Early shift,” Sid groaned. “Seven till two.”

“I’ll come in on my way to work. About half eight.”

“All right for some! See you then.”

Jean texted Melissa with details of the time and place, and the trap was set. 

There was a long line of cool young people waiting for coffee when Jean entered the Rabbit Hole the next morning, but Sid was on the lookout and flashed her a coy smile. She quickly finished serving a customer before leaving the counter and dragging Jean to the store room, to a chorus of “Dude! What the fuck?” from her co-workers. 

“I should come back when it’s less busy,” said Jean.

“Fuck it. You’re here now,” said Sid. 

They moved closer together and Jean held Sid in a warm embrace. This one could go on for ever as far as she was concerned. But maybe not. One of the other baristas walked past with a disapproving glance. 

“I don’t want to get you fired,” whispered Jean.

Reluctantly, they disentangled themselves.

“You’re all set for later?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’ll call you as soon as he’s gone.”

“Wait a few minutes. Just in case he hangs around outside and overhears you, or something.” 

“All right.”

“And please be careful.”

Sid pulled a face. “Yes, Mom.”

“Now, can I get a double Americano?”

“Coming right up. Extra special.”

Jean couldn’t keep the smirk off her face as she walked back up the steps, coffee in hand, and she breezed into the office. She checked her patient list for the day. She’d thought she had a spare hour at lunchtime, but it seemed that Sam of all people had booked an appointment. What did he want? Sid had mentioned he’d gone to her apartment last week, the night of the speech, but said she’d told him to leave. Surely he wasn’t still moping over her? Jean resolved to get the session over with as quickly as possible. 

At the appointed time, she went to fetch him from the waiting room and he walked into her office, looking distraught.

“Thanks for seeing me at such short notice.”

“Of course. No problem.”

Jean sat down on her blue chair and crossed her legs. 

“I just don’t know what to do.”

“What’s happened, Sam?”

“Well, after our conversation last Wednesday I went round to Sidney’s place. I thought I was doing the right thing getting engaged to Emily, that she’s good for me, but then you said not to give up on my dreams…”

What was I thinking, saying that, wondered Jean. I must have been out of my fucking mind. 

“So I thought maybe if I saw Sidney one more time I could make a decision. But she wasn’t happy to see me, and she asked me to leave. So that was that.”

“Right.”

“Until last night.”

Jean’s pen fell to the floor. Sam waited politely for her to pick it up. 

“What happened last night?” 

“She called me, late, and asked to come over.”

Jean stared at him. 

“And she was really happy and affectionate, and we almost had sex, but I didn’t go through with it because of Emily. So now I’m all confused again.”


	14. Chapter 14

It wasn’t often that Jean was at a loss for words, but Sam’s revelation rendered her speechless. What the actual fuck, Sid? Spending the night at my place after the best sex of your life, and then going round to seduce Sam the next evening? Jean would have admired the duplicity, if it hadn’t hurt so much. 

Shit. Sam was still here, wanting her advice. 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, I just can’t believe Sidney acted like that. I have to be honest with you, Sam, this is very strange behavior. Sidney seems very unstable.”

“That’s what I think too.”

But so damned irresistible. They were both thinking it. 

“She’s already hurt you and I think if you carry on with this it’s only going to get worse. When did you last see Emily?”

“At the weekend.”

“And how was it?”

“She could tell I was distracted. I pretended it was something at work.”

“Ok, that’s good. Why don’t you call Emily, and meet her this evening. Do something romantic. Get your engagement back on track.”

Sam nodded. “I know it’s the right thing to do. I just needed to hear it from you.”

“And keep in touch, all right? If you need any more sessions, just let me know.”

He took the hint and departed. Jean had a few minutes before her next appointment. She sat at her desk and put her head in her hands, then reached into the drawer for her stash of pills. She’d be needing to take Michelle up on her offer very soon at this rate. Jean’s blood was boiling at Sid’s apparent betrayal but they were both at work, it was no time for an angry phone call. A text message? No. Better to wait. She had no reason to think Sid wouldn’t go through with her part in this evening’s plans, and if Sid was going to toy with her affections like this, at least she could use her to solve the Tom problem. Then she would confront her and get to the bottom of this. 

After work, Jean was finally able to have FaceTime with Dolly and check that she was doing her homework. Dolly seemed fine and not unduly bothered by her absence. Jean wondered how Michael had explained it to her, and whether Dolly had met Catherine yet. She couldn’t bear to think about that fucking woman and the idea of her getting close to Dolly made her want to throw up. 

It was eight thirty. If the deal was going down, it was happening now. Jean poured herself a bourbon and smoked a cigarette, unable to get the conversation with Sam out of her mind.

************

It was eight thirty. Sid poured herself a tequila and smoked a cigarette, playing with Stevie’s ears. She was glad to have his company, just in case things turned nasty. 

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Tom was standing there, in jeans and hoodie, with a shorter haircut and no beard. It wasn’t much of an improvement. He dangled a plastic bag at her.

“Let me get some money.”

Tom stood in the doorway, sizing up the apartment. “Nice pad.”

Sid ignored this comment, and returned with her wallet. She gave him the cash and he counted it.

“You’re twenty short.”

“What?”

“Delivery’s extra. Unless you want to pay me in kind,” he leered. 

Sid gave him a withering look. Not bloody likely. She handed over a twenty, anything to get rid of him as quickly as possible, and he gave her the bag. 

“Nice doing business with you. So, where’s Francis?”

“He’s out tonight. See you.”

She went to close the door, but Tom had his foot in the way, and seemed to be in no hurry to leave. 

“Not so fast.” He grabbed her by the arm. Shit. 

“You his girlfriend?”

“No, I told you before, I’m his landlord. He sleeps here sometimes.”

“He know you’re doing this?”

“Yes, he’s fine with it.”

Tom stared at her for a few seconds. Stevie jumped off the bed and ambled across the room. About bloody time.

“All right then.”

She closed the door quickly and took a deep breath. For all her tough girl act, that had been scarier than she’d expected.

“Where were you, Stevie?” she asked the dog. “Dreaming about bones or something? Not much of a guard dog, are you?”

But the ordeal was over, and she couldn’t hear any noise from the stairwell. She was pretty sure Tom had gone, but she lay on the bed and smoked some Blue Dream to pass a little time per Jean’s instructions, then picked up the phone.

***********

Melissa was in position, hidden from view by a parked car. She’d seen Tom go into the block, and pretended to be a homeless person rummaging in a bin as he came out. He walked down the street towards the subway station and she followed from a distance. The station entrance wasn’t busy and she waited a minute before following him down the steps inside.

The platform had lots of conveniently wide pillars and it was easy for her to stay hidden but keep him in sight. He took the L train and she huddled up at the other end of the carriage, but he was looking at his phone, oblivious to her presence. The train reached Broadway Junction and he stood up. Melissa waited until the last minute before getting off herself, and a passenger getting on swore at her. Fuck him. Thinking about how happy Jean was going to be with her, she took the verbal abuse in her stride.

Tom changed to the J train, traveling north. The train became emptier with each stop and now Melissa was feeling jumpy and struggling to keep her nerve. She got her own phone out and tried not to look across at Tom. They reached 111th Street. He showed no sign of getting up, and she checked her messages. When she looked up next she saw him running for the door just as it was closing. Fuck. She had no time to go after him. She kept her head down, in case he was watching her from the platform. She’d hoped to get further than that, but it was better than nothing. 

She got off at the next stop, switched platforms to catch the train going back in the other direction, and sent a message to Jean. 

“Followed from Bushwick. Lost him in Queens. 111 St station J train.”

Jean replied immediately.

“Thanks M. Did he see you? Are you ok?”

“Don’t think he saw me. Am fine. Miss you xx.”

“Xx.”

Melissa smiled to herself. That was encouraging.


	15. Chapter 15

Sid had called Jean to report that Tom had left the building, expecting to receive a deluge of praise and gratitude. But it had been a strange phone call. Jean sounded distracted, distant even. That was weird. Sid put those disquieting thoughts on hold for a minute and sent Sam a message to ask if she could drop Stevie off. He replied, saying he was out with Emily this evening but would be back around eleven. It was so annoying that he’d changed the locks and she couldn’t just let herself in like she used to in the good old days, but at least it would give her time to go round to 309 beforehand and find out what was going on with Jean. 

Jean was thinking about the message from Melissa when the intercom buzzed. 

“Sidney. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

Sid could immediately tell that she’d been right, something was up. Normally Jean was thrilled to see her, especially when she was least expecting it. 

“I need to take Stevie back to Sam’s, so I thought I’d drop by on my way.”

Jean watched as the dog went to curl up on a nice soft patch of rug. She hadn’t even kissed Sid. This was not the reception party Sid had been looking forward to. She hoped her allure wasn’t suddenly wearing off. What was going on?

“Has there been any news from your friend?” she asked. 

“Yes, I just heard from her. She lost him at 111th Street,” said Jean.

“That’s not bad. Gives us a place to start.”

Jean nodded, eyes unfocused. “It’s better than nothing.”

There was a pause. Sid looked at her, puzzled. 

“Are you all right, Diane? You seem a bit…”

The anger came gushing out of Jean like cheap prosecco from a shaken bottle. 

“No, I’m not fucking all right.” 

Her eyes flashed, a dangerous cobalt blue. Sid looked at her in alarm. 

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? You’re asking me that? Seriously?”

“What is it? You seem to think I’ve done something…”

Sid gathered that she was being accused, but was in the dark about the crime. 

“Don’t act all innocent,” scoffed Jean. “You know what you did.”

“I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!”

Sid appeared to be genuine. Either that, or she was a damned fine actress. Jean needed a minute to get herself together. 

“Let me get a drink.”

She made a move to go into the kitchen but Sid grabbed her by the arm. 

“Don’t fucking run away from me, Diane. Tell me what you think I’ve done.”

“All right then. I went into work today, after I saw you this morning, and guess who made an emergency appointment at lunchtime?”

“Who?”

“Your fucking ex. Sam.”

Jean was quivering with rage. Sid moved closer and looked her in the eye. 

“What did he want?”

“He told me you went round to his last apartment night and, let me see, what was the phrase he used. Oh yes. ‘We almost had sex.’”

“Shit!” Sid let go of Jean’s arm and stared at her with horror. “That’s ridiculous!”

“So you’re denying it?”

“I did go round to his last night, but it was to get Stevie. We didn’t ‘almost have sex’. For fuck’s sake. I gave him a hug as I was leaving. That was it, I swear, Diane!”

Jean wanted it to be true it so badly, and the supporting evidence was right there on her rug, in canine form. 

“He’s such a deluded motherfucker, I can’t believe he said that!”

Now Jean didn’t know what to believe. Meanwhile, Sid was becoming incensed.

“How could you think I still want to shag that loser, after everything I’ve done for you? Surely you must realize by now how I feel about you. I can’t fucking believe this.”

She turned her back on Jean and walked across to the window, her emotional turmoil quite plain. Jean followed and reached out to touch her but Sid pushed her hand away. She stood there for a minute, Jean watching her reflection in the glass. Then Sid turned round to face her, eyes full of tears. 

“I can’t believe you still don’t trust me, after everything I’ve done for you.”

Jean stared at her. Had she made a terrible error? 

“Do you have any idea what it was like to be hit on by that fucking psycho this evening? I was bloody glad I did have Stevie, or fuck only knows what might have happened.”

Jean was aghast. She’d been so caught up in her own feelings of outrage that she hadn’t even stopped to ask about Sid’s encounter with Tom.

“Oh my god, Sid, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Give me that fucking drink,” said Sid.

Jean returned with the bottle of Bulleit and poured a generous glass for Sid, and another one for herself. Sid downed hers in one. 

“He showed up with the drugs, and I paid him, and then he demanded more money, and then he grabbed me and I honestly think it would have got nasty if Stevie hadn’t woken up at that point.”

“Fuck!” said Jean. Sid had put herself in danger for her, and in return received only accusations and blame. Jean went to embrace her, but Sid was still furious and backed away. 

“I don’t think so, Diane. I’ve put up with plenty of your bullshit, but this really takes the biscuit.”

“Sidney, please, you have to understand…”

“I understand everything. I can see exactly what’s going on here. You’re playing me. Even now.”

Jean was too horrified to protest.

“I have to drop Stevie off. And despite everything, I won’t be fucking Sam tonight either, whatever he may tell you next time he goes running to you. Come on, Stevie.”

Sid stormed out of the apartment and Jean was left cursing herself and wondering how she could have been so stupid as to believe Sam instead of trusting her own instincts. She knocked back her bourbon, and sent a message to Michelle.


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Jean decided to call in sick. That ruled out going to the Rabbit Hole, which was too near the office for comfort, but it was best to let Sid calm down in her own time rather than risk another confrontation, especially in front of Sid’s co-workers and the other customers. From past experience, Jean was well aware that Sid enjoyed having a massive argument in front of an audience. 

At least there was one thing she could be doing. She made herself some coffee, trying not to make unfavorable comparisons with Sid’s Americano, and opened up her ipad. Thank god for Google Street View. It seemed that 111th Street was a run-of-the-mill suburban station. She’d hoped there would be a Starbucks or something, but there was just a row of dingy-looking shops and restaurants, nowhere to hang out while she waited. It would be better to take the car. Fortunately, she’d left it parked in a garage nearby, costing an arm and a leg in charges while she decided what to do about it. 

She took a shower, got dressed in black pants, olive T shirt and leather jacket, and covered up her hair with a beanie. Add a pair of sunglasses and it was a passable disguise. She drove to Queens, where she managed to find a parking spot which gave her a decent view of both sets of steps down from the station. Now there was nothing to do but wait. 

Sid spent the day at the Rabbit Hole, taking out her frustration on the coffee machine. She still felt bruised from the discovery that Jean had so little faith in her that she’d believe any old bullshit Sam came out with. She’d handed Stevie over to him on the doorstep last night and hadn’t even gone into his apartment. Let him turn that into a massive seduction scene in his head, if he wanted to. 

Sid reminded herself that Jean hadn’t witnessed the scene on Monday night with her own eyes, she’d only heard about it second-hand from Sam. If Sid was honest with herself, maybe she had flirted just a little bit with Sam that evening, but she'd had her reasons. She hadn’t expected that loser to turn it into a massive big deal and go running straight to his therapist. What a fucking mess. 

She finished her shift, grunted goodbye to her co-workers and walked up the steps. All she wanted to do was go home, have a bath, drink some tequila and smoke a hundred cigarettes. But as she turned the corner, she stopped in her tracks. Jean’s office was further down the street, and there was someone hanging around outside it. It looked like Tom. Heart racing, she ducked out of sight before he could turn round. However pissed off she was with Jean right now, she wasn’t going to tolerate this. She had to warn her. She got out her phone.

“T is outside your office.”

She poked her head round the corner. He was still there, looking the other way. The phone buzzed.

“Am not there. Do not let him see you.”

“Where are u?”

“Queens. 111th St station.”

“Will follow T.”

“Be careful.”

Sid resisted the temptation to make a smart-arse reply. She knew Tom was dangerous. 

He hung around for some time but just after six o’clock, two people came out of the office and Sid deduced that they must be Jean’s colleagues. The man stopped to lock the door and Tom slunk off down the street. Sid followed, staying back as far as possible. She put her headphones on and in the crowd, with her hair up, there was a good chance he wouldn’t recognize her from a distance, or if he did, she was on her way home, nothing strange about that. 

He took the M train and she followed. She reckoned he was going to 111th Street, so he’d need to switch to the J train at Broadway Junction, her own neighborhood. This time, it would be best not to be in the same carriage. She got on at the far end and texted Jean. 

“On the J train. At 111th in about 15.”

“Got it.”

“Need to stay behind him. Might not be cover at station.”

“Meet me in car.” 

“Mom car?” Sid couldn’t help herself. 

“Fuck you.”

Sid suppressed a laugh. Her phone buzzed again.

“At least it’s inconspicuous.”

Jean always had to have the last word, but Sid was amused. She’d have some fun with that, if she ever got the chance. Ten minutes flew by in an instant as she thought about getting her delicious revenge on Jean, and then the train pulled into 111th Street. Game on, finally. Sid saw Tom disappearing into the distance along the platform. It didn’t seem like he’d clocked her. There was nowhere to hide, so she stayed a safe distance behind, pretending to be fiddling with her phone, then she ran down the steps. At sidewalk level, she glanced around. She couldn’t see Tom, but there was Jean’s car parked across the street. Quickly, she walked across to it and got in. The sight of Jean looking casual in a black beanie was distracting but this was no time for sartorial commentary. Jean was already pulling out into the traffic. 

“Did you see him?” asked Sid. 

“Yes. You’d better get down.”

Jean was all business this evening. Sid crouched down as they drove down Jamaica Avenue and took a left down 109th Street. 

“There you are, you little fucker,” said Jean. She continued driving, cautiously, then parked a little way up the road. 

“All right. He’s gone. You can get up now.”

Sid sat up. “Where did he go?”

“In there.”

Jean indicated a red brick building further along the street. It looked like some kind of factory, or maybe an office, with boarded up windows on the ground floor and a parking lot which was empty at this time of night.

“You think he’s keeping Allison in there? What do we do now?” asked Sid. 

“We wait,” said Jean grimly.


	17. Chapter 17

The atmosphere in the car was tense. Last night’s argument hung heavily in the air between them. But they couldn’t sit there in silence. Somebody had to say something. Jean got in there first. 

“Look, Sidney.”

“Diane.”

“About last night.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve been sitting in the car all day, so I had a lot of time to think. And maybe I shouldn’t have taken what Sam said at face value. It caught me by surprise, and I don’t think he normally lies to me. So I’m wondering if something happened between you which he misinterpreted somehow. Is that possible, do you think?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it too.” 

Oh god. Please don’t let her say that she wants to end it. After I’ve sacrificed everything to be with her.

“There is something I haven’t told you…”

Jean hated it when Sid said that. It was the worst kind of torment. She looked at her apprehensively. 

“… because I wasn’t sure how you would react.”

This was unbearable. She didn’t want to hear what was coming next.

But whatever was coming next would have to wait, because they had both spotted Tom coming out of the building. Sid crouched down again, out of sight. Jean pulled down her beanie and sat back, but there was no need to worry. Inside the mom car they were invisible to him. He walked down the street back in the direction he’d come from before. Jean waited a few seconds.

“Right, I’m going in. Are you coming with me?”

“Of course. I didn’t come out all this way just to sit in the fucking car.”

Jean exhaled, relieved that Sid would be back by her side for this next challenge. Maybe there was still some hope after all. 

They got out of the car and walked over to the building. There was nobody around and it appeared to be deserted. Tom had come out of a back door, and Sid pushed it, but it was locked. 

“Shit. How are we going to get in?”

They looked around for other possible means of ingress. Jean walked round the side of the building and waved to Sid. 

“Look. There’s a fire escape.”

They climbed the steps and found that it led to a hatch on the roof, but this had a padlock on and there was no way they were going to get it open. 

“Bollocks,” said Sid. 

“There was a window back there, half way up,” said Jean.

“Yeah, we’ll have to break it,” said Sid. “Let me get something.”

She ran back down the steps and foraged in the parking lot, then came running back up the fire escape and Jean saw she was holding a brick in her hand. 

“Sidney, be careful…” she said, a second too late, as Sid smashed the window. 

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, looking at her hand which was now bleeding. 

“Give me that,” said Jean, taking off her scarf and gently wrapping it round Sid’s hand. 

Sid watched as blood seeped into the scarf, which must have been very expensive, but Jean didn’t seem bothered about it. 

"That looks nasty," said Jean.

“I’m fine,” replied Sid. Actually it hurt like hell, but she wasn’t going to let Jean see her pain. She was English. Stiff upper lip and all that.

All Jean wanted to do was take Sid home right now and kiss it better, but they might never get another chance to track Tom. Reluctantly, she returned her attention to the matter at hand. She reached inside the window, taking care to avoid the broken glass. The clasp was stiff, but with some pushing, it opened and she climbed through, Sid following close behind. Apart from the light from the street it was dark inside. Sid used her phone as a torch and shone it around the room. It seemed to be a derelict warehouse. They saw a door on the other side of the room, and walked over to it. Jean opened it as quietly a possible. It opened onto the stairwell. 

Jean hesitated. Up or down? Sid pointed down, and Jean nodded. They descended the stairs in silence and Jean pushed open the door to the next room. Again, it was empty, nothing to see here. Jean was creeped out by the oppressiveness of the empty building and the stale smell of the abandoned rooms, but she was determined to continue the search. They went down another level, which must be the basement. Jean opened the next door and they went inside, phones lighting the way. 

Suddenly, Jean froze. Was that a sound she'd just heard? She motioned to Sid to stay quiet, and they stood stock-still, listening. There was another noise, unmistakable this time. It was coming from their left. The phones illuminated another door. Jean ran across the room and opened it. It led into another part of the basement. She groped for the light switch. The room was flooded with light and they could see a body lying up slumped up against the far wall. Allison. 

They rushed over to her. Jean got down on her knees and cradled Allison’s head in her hands. Allison’s eyes were closed and she was muttering but seemed to be barely conscious. 

“We need to get her out of here,” said Jean.

But there was a problem. Allison’s wrist was handcuffed to the radiator on the wall. 

“Shit!” said Jean. She tugged at the cuffs but to no avail.

“I might have an idea,” said Sid. She unwrapped the scarf from her hand and rummaged in her purse, coming up trumps with a hair clip. She checked that it would fit into the lock on the cuffs, while Jean watched with rapt attention. 

“Sid, how on earth…” 

Sid grinned at her. “Let’s just say I’ve had some experience.”

Jean was beginning to understand there was a lot she didn’t know about Sidney Pierce. 

Suddenly there was a noise from outside. It was footsteps, getting closer. 

“Call 911,” said Sid. “Now!” 

She continued to pick away at the lock while Jean dialed the number, her hands shaky and heart thumping.

“Shit! No signal!”

The door to the outer room opened and they both froze. Tom stood there, holding a paper bag full of beer cans. 

“Well what do you know,” he said, looking at Jean. “Allison’s best buddy showing up to save her.” 

Jean glared at him. “What the fuck have you done to her, you little shit?”

Tom didn't answer, but put the bag down on the floor and began to cross the room. 

“And as for you!” he said, looking at Sid now. “What the fuck do you have to do with any of this?”

Sid stared back at him, calculating her options. They were backed into a corner with no exits. If she could only distract him for a few seconds.

“She’s my friend. I came to help her.”

“I don’t like bitches who stick their noses into my business.”

Tom reached inside his hoodie, and produced an evil-looking serrated knife. He took a step forward.

“Now, who wants to go first?”


	18. Chapter 18

“Oh my god.” Jean was mesmerized by the sight of the knife. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. 

Tom was enjoying her reaction. As he was laughing, Sid took her chance to whip out the gun which was stashed in the back of her jeans. She rose to her feet and pointed it at him. Jean couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Where the fuck had that come from? Was it the gun she’d seen in Sam’s drawer on one of her rummaging expeditions? She noticed the confident way Sid was holding it with both hands. She looked like she knew what she was doing.

Tom, on the other hand, couldn’t believe that a woman would know how to handle a gun. He took another step forward.

“Stop right there, or I’ll shoot,” said Sid.

“You expect me to believe that?” he replied, taking another step forward. 

A bullet whizzed past his ear. He froze, and Sid cocked the gun again. 

“One more step and I’ll shoot your fucking balls off. Put the knife down.”

Tom hesitated, then dropped the knife to the floor.

“Put your hands up. Now go and stand over there,” she said, indicating the far wall. 

He looked at her for a second, then backed up against the wall.

“Jean, go upstairs and call the cops,” said Sid, keeping the gun pointed at Tom. She kept herself between them as Jean ran across the room and through the door to the stairwell. Sid kicked the knife over to the far corner, as far away from Tom as possible. They stared at each other.

“Who the fuck are you?” asked Tom. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I should have fucked you up while I had the chance.”

“Yeah, well, too late now, you lowlife piece of shit. What have you done to this girl? You’re a fucked-up sick fucking fucker...”

Jean came running back down the steps. 

“They’re on their way.”

They waited uneasily for a while, Tom glaring at Sid, Sid glaring back, and Jean standing by the door. Then at last the sound of sirens could be heard outside. There was a loud crashing noise as the police broke the front door down. Jean went up to meet them. A group of armed officers came running down the steps and Sid lowered her gun as they entered the room. 

“That’s Tom Devins,” said Jean, pointing at Tom. He was taken away by some of the police officers, while others stayed behind to survey the scene and a pair of paramedics attended to Allison. 

A police officer walked up to Sid. 

“We understand you were responsible for apprehending the suspect?”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“I see you have a handgun. I’m going to need that,” he said, indicating the gun. Sid handed it over. Jean watched all this, melting inside at the sight of her brave tiger. There would be some explaining to do to the police, but after that, surely she deserved a reward. 

“Got any other weapons on you?” 

“No. That was Tom’s knife,” said Sid, pointing at it lying on the floor.

“Right. We’re going to need you to come with us to the station. And you,” he said to Jean.

“Of course. But Sidney needs medical attention. Her hand.”

“Jean!” Sid protested. 

The police officer called one of the paramedics over, who examined the cut to Sid’s hand. The verdict was that it could wait, which was fine by Sid. She didn’t want a fuss. They were driven to the police station and interviewed in separate rooms. Jean finished first, and waited in the reception area for Sid, who came out a few minutes later. They were both told that they would need to make themselves available for further inquiries as and when necessary, and at last they were free to leave. They walked out of the station and a little way down the street, then fell into each other’s arms. 

“Oh my god, Sidney!” said Jean, burying her face in Sid’s shoulder. 

“It’s all right, Diane,” said Sid. “It’s over now.”

They stood like that for a while until Jean composed herself. 

“I have so much I want to say to you. And ask you.”

Sid nodded. “Yeah, I know. And you can. But can we just go home now?”

“Hospital for you, young lady,” said Jean.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s just a scratch,” said Sid.

“Are you sure?” asked Jean. She reminded herself that Sid wasn’t nine years old, after all, and she didn’t really want to spend hours hanging around in the hospital either.

“Yes. I’ll put a Band Aid on it later, all right?”

“Deal.”

They walked back down Jamaica Avenue, arm in arm, past the J train station. They were so wrapped up in each other and so overwhelmed by the events of the evening that neither of them noticed Melissa observing them from the doorway of one of the dingy-looking shops. 

They reached the car and got in. Jean put the key in the ignition then paused, and turned to Sid. Time stood still for a few minutes as they kissed. There was nothing like a life-threatening situation to remind you of your priorities, thought Jean. You only live once.

“God, I needed that,” said Jean, coming up for air at last. “Listen, what you did back there… you saved my life. And Allison’s.”

“It was no big deal,” said Sid, nonchalantly. 

“Yes it was, Sidney!”

“Look, can we just go home?”

“I have to take the car back to Upper West Side. Do you want me to drop you off in Bushwick?”

“No.” Sid’s tone of voice indicated what she thought of the question. 

“309 it is,” said Jean, with a smile of satisfaction. She pulled into the road and turned on the radio. Sid snorted when she saw the station it was tuned to.

“Been thinking about Marfa, have you?”

“Maybe…” said Jean. Thinking about what she’d like to do to Sid in the Westfalia, more like. As far as she was concerned, the road trip was more about the journey than the destination.


	19. Chapter 19

There was still something on Jean’s mind. She had to ask the question. 

“Last time we were in this car you were about to tell me something, and then Tom showed up.”

Sid looked out of the window. Back to that uncomfortable subject. But she knew that she did owe Jean an explanation.

“So what were you going to tell me?” asked Jean.

“I was going to tell you about the gun. But you know about it now.”

“Where did you get it? How come you know how to use it?”

“My father gave it to me. And he taught me how to shoot.”

“Your father. There are so many different versions of that story, I’m losing track.”

“Well, this is the real one. I told you he was a criminal, and he is. And he was in prison for a while, that bit was true, but he’s out now. And he was worried that his enemies might come after me, hence the gun.”

“I see.”

“And it’s also the reason Sam told you what he did.” She wasn't going to repeat the actual words. 

Jean gave Sid a quizzical look.

“Sam didn’t like me having the gun, it bothered him, so we agreed he could keep it at his place, and I kept the bullets.”

Jean knew from her drawer-rummaging exploits that Sid wasn’t lying to her this time. She waited for her to continue. 

“With all this stuff going on with Tom, I decided I needed to get it back. Did Sam tell you he’s changed the locks now? So I had to find a way to get it in and get it.”

“Why didn’t you just ask him for it?”

“Think about it, Diane. He would have asked loads of questions.”

Jean nodded. It made sense.

“I could hardly tell him I needed it because you and I were tracking down Tom. He still doesn’t know about us. I was trying to protect you.”

Jean couldn’t argue with that. 

“So what happened?”

“I went round to Sam’s to get Stevie, and I distracted him a little bit.”

Jean cast her a suspicious glance. 

“Look, it was with good reason, all right? I needed him to offer me a drink so that I could sneak into his bedroom and steal the gun.”

“How did you distract him?”

“It was one kiss, Diane. I swear that’s all. And I did it for you.”

Sid shot Jean a look of such intensity that she almost collided with the car in front of them. 

“Just one kiss?”

“Yes! And I didn’t want to do it, I had to force myself. I’m not interested in him any more. You have to believe that.”

Jean didn’t reply. She was trying to take this all in and focus on the road at the same time. 

“Look, Diane, I don’t know what Sam told you in your sessions with him. But you must understand by now that he was a million times more into me than I was into him. I should have ended it ages ago. I don’t know why I let it go on so long.”

“I think you liked the attention,” said Jean.

“Well, I have your attention now.”

“Maybe…” smirked Jean.

“And your attention is the most intoxicating thing in the entire fucking world. So stop being jealous of Sam, all right?”

“There is one thing he told me…” said Jean. 

“What?”

“That you put all your admiration into one person at a time.”

“Yeah. So?”

“And then you get bored. Once that person reciprocates, you’re done. On to the next one.”

“Maybe that was true, with him. But it’s definitely not the case with you,” said Sid, fervently. 

Jean couldn’t resist the charm offensive. She was melting like an ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day. 

“Besides, you and I have unfinished business,” said Sid.

Jean gave her a quick sideways glance.

“You didn’t think I’d forgotten?” continued Sid. 

Jean shuddered inside, remembering the promise she had made, the steamy phone call and Sid’s refusal to grant a reprieve the other night. 

“No, I didn’t think so...”

Sid’s remark about experience with handcuffs had also been playing on Jean’s mind. What had she let herself in for? Well, she knew she’d be safe enough this evening at 309. She could relax for a day or two at least. 

It was nearly eleven pm when they reached the parking garage. They left the car there and walked down West 81st Street side by side, Sid’s swagger even more pronounced than usual. They reached 309 and Jean unlocked the door. 

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked Sid.

“God yes, I’m starving.”

Jean looked in the fridge, which was empty.

“Don’t worry, I’ll order a pizza,” said Sid, getting her phone out. There were no problems with Seamless not showing up, here in the Upper West Side. Meanwhile, Jean poured two glasses of bourbon and handed one to Sid. 

“Cheers.”

“Cheers. And thanks again for what you did today. You were amazing.”

“Thanks? Think I deserve a bit more than that,” said Sid. 

“You do, but let me look at your hand first.”

They put the glasses down on the coffee table. Jean took Sid’s hand in her own and examined the cut, which was jagged and angry. Jean led her into the bathroom and ran Sid’s injured hand under the tap, then dried it gently with a towel and kissed it. Sid smiled. 

“That’s so much better already.” 

Jean smiled back, and gently rubbed some antiseptic cream along the cut. Finally, she wrapped it up with a bandage. 

“All right, you’ll do,” she said. 

They went back into the living room. Jean lay back on the sofa while Sid bestowed hungry kisses all the way way up her body to her neck, cheeks and finally lips. Jean ran her hands through Sid’s hair and they rested like that for a while until the buzzer rang. The pizza was highly necessary, and they ate it straight from the box. 

Later on, they lay in bed, arms wrapped round each other, too exhausted to do anything except enjoy the sensation of intimacy and the warmth of bare skin against bare skin. The day had started with them feeling hurt and angry with each other, but now, after everything that had happened, they were closer than ever before.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just to warn you lovely readers, I'm about to go on my hols (that may be vacation to you) so it will be a while before the next update but I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't worry, there will be more in due course...

Jean had forgotten to set the alarm, and it was almost ten the next morning when she woke up. Guess we won’t be going in to work today, she thought, with a little smirk of satisfaction. Sid was still asleep, lying with her back turned to Jean, disheveled hair tumbling down her neck onto the pillow. Jean ran her fingers lightly through it, then applied indigo-painted fingernails to Sid’s shoulder blade, with the softest of touches.

Her thoughts returned to her favorite fantasy, Sid wearing a decadent, tight-fitting scarlet dress, standing right in front of her, so close that a kiss was bound to occur at any moment, and giving her a full blast of that swaggering attitude. 

In fact, Sid was not asleep, but was lying as still as possible so that Jean wouldn’t realize. That way, she got to enjoy the sensation of Jean’s hands caressing her hair and skin, combined with the delicious knowledge that Jean thought her affections were being conveyed in secret. Eventually Jean’s hand worked its way round to Sid’s right breast and then she couldn’t restrain herself any longer. 

“Diane,” she said, voice even raspier than usual. “What’s going on? Are you molesting me in my sleep?”

The English accent had never been more alluring. 

“Maybe…” replied Jean, equally huskily. It was the result of all those cigarettes they’d smoked the previous evening, lying in a tangled heap on the couch after the pizza.

“Hold on,” said Jean “I have to make a call.”

She reached for her phone, dialed Gary’s number, and explained that she was still sick. The hoarse voice was an advantage in this situation. She really did sound like she had a bad cold.

“Do you need to call work too?” 

“Nah, I’m five hours late. Even those fuckwitted morons will have have figured out that I’m not showing up by now.”

“I don’t want to get you fired.”

“Are you sure about that? Then I’d be free to lie here all day.”

Sid rolled over and gave Jean an enchanting smile.

Jean found herself speechless, dazzled by the beauty of Sid’s eyes. They were hazel, she finally decided, nature’s own work of art, rare and special. Sidney Pierce could always be relied upon to be fucking perfect. 

“You could pay me,” continued Sid.

“In pizza and bourbon?” asked Jean.

“It’s a tempting offer, but I had something else in mind, actually,” smirked Sid.

“You mean I’d come home exhausted from a hard day at work and then I’d have to spend all evening giving you attention?” scoffed Jean. “Nice try.”

“Or I could give you attention…” said Sid, leaning across and nuzzling Jean’s neck.

“Well, that would be a different proposition…”

“I’d look out of the window, watching out for you coming down the street, so I could be at the door waiting to hand you your evening cocktail as you walked through it. Soft music playing, moody lighting, candles lit on the dinner table.”

“And then order up a delivery from Seamless.”

“Yeah, well, I never said I could cook.”

“I hate cooking too,” said Jean. “The soccer moms all used to laugh at me behind my back about it.”

“Those mean soccer moms,” said Sid. “They were so into me. Did they ask you about me, when you got home?”

“Michelle practically tied me to a chair and interrogated me,” said Jean.

Sid’s eyes went slightly misty. “Don’t give me ideas,” she whispered.

Jean had a quick flashback to that moment with the chair, that night in Bushwick, and began breathing raggedly.

“You make me so nervous, I’ll need to see Michelle soon to get some more pills.”

“You should. I’ve got plenty of weed now though. One silver lining from the Tom episode.”

“I’m looking forward to some more Blue Dream.” 

“Sure. Just give me time to stock up on strawberry twizzlers first.”

Jean gave her a playful cuff. “That’s enough of your lip, young lady.”

“Bullshit! You can’t get enough of my lips…” retorted Sid, pouting at her.

This was absolutely true, but Jean would not give her the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Now get up and go make me an Americano, extra special.”

“Yes, sir. I could service you every day, if I didn’t have to go to work.”

The cocky backchat was driving Jean insane, but she knew that the best kind of gratification was delayed. 

“Go,” she said. “I’ll go out and get something for breakfast.”

Jean managed to make even yesterday’s clothes look elegant as she headed to the French bakery. She returned with a paper bag of pains au chocolat and found coffee waiting on the bedside table and Sid already back in bed with an expectant look on her face.

“Just keeping it warm for you,” she told Jean, with a smile which would have melted Mount Everest.

Jean lost no time in tearing off her clothes and jumping into bed beside Sid, fiercely wrapping her arms around her. 

“Good, because it was cold outside.” 

“I thought you were hungry?” 

“I’m starving.”

The pains au chocolat lay untouched in their paper bag on the bedside table and the coffee was cold by the time Jean had finished giving Sidney all the attention she could possibly have wished for. Afterwards, they lay back, contentedly. 

“Maybe I should rob that bank after all,” said Jean. “Then we could do this every day.”

“No, I don’t want to see you in a balaclava. The beanie yesterday was distracting enough...” replied Sid.

“Are you mocking my headgear now?”

“Maybe…”

“Hey! That’s my line.”

“Tough shit,” said Sid, reaching for a pain au chocolat. She ate it slowly and the chocolate inside became soft and runny. Somehow she spilled some down her front, giving Jean no option but to lick it off. 

“You’re ruining my sheets,” complained Jean.

“I think they were already ruined. And not just by me.”

They could have gone on all day like this, but Jean was aware that the police might call at any moment to go through the events of yesterday. With a big sigh, she forced herself to sit up. She checked her phone. It was now one pm and she had three missed calls. Fuck it. 

“Let’s have a shower,” said Sid.

Jean needed no further invitation, and led the way into the bathroom. The steam rose as Jean gave Sid a good scrubbing down, cruelly applying extra pressure to certain sensitive areas, until Sid was writhing and struggling to get away. 

“That’ll teach you to get chocolate all over yourself,” said Jean with a self-satisfied smirk. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Sid. “A very bad idea. Have you forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?” asked Jean with her very best innocent, demure look. 

“Because I haven’t,” said Sid in that menacing tone. “Today is Thursday, right?”

Jean had completely lost track of what day it was, so much had been going on. She cast her mind back. Yes, it was Thursday.

“I need time go get ready so, Saturday it is.”

“What’s on Saturday?”

Jean was still pretending to have no idea what Sid was talking about. 

“Full Sidney Experience part two. You were ready for it last time.”

“Yes, and I’ll be ready this time too,” said Jean, unconvincingly. Shit, she really must call Michelle today.

“Game on!” said Sid.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This couldn't be rushed. Standards have to be maintained. Thanks for bearing with me.

The wait had gone on long enough. On Friday, Jean had struggled through another day in the office, hoping that her patients wouldn’t notice her impaired concentration and newfound tendency to gaze into the middle distance, as visions of the woman she adored played in slow motion on a screen inside her mind. 

She woke up late on Saturday with butterflies in her stomach. It probably hadn’t been a good idea to drink so much bourbon the night before, but she’d been feeling nervous about what was coming next. It had been agreed that she would arrive in Bushwick around 8.00. Anything earlier than that would have felt indecent, somehow. Certain things were best left to the hours of darkness. 

She contemplated calling the hairdressers to see if they could fit her in for a blow out, but dismissed the idea. With the Rebecca situation taken care of, there was no need for those any more. She’d stick to the natural look. But what was she going to wear? She recalled the conversation in the bathroom, when she’d imagined the scene taking place on a work day with herself dressed in office attire. But as things had turned out, it was a Saturday. For the full Sidney experience part one, she’d worn her leather jacket, jeans and one of her elegant little tops, before she ended up putting on Sidney’s tiger vest to help her get into character for dancing. She didn’t plan to repeat that. She settled on the shimmery red, green and grey dress which she’d worn to the function for Michael’s work. It was demure, yet floaty and bohemian, with the advantage of a plunging neckline. Sidney might find that alluring, she thought. 

She passed the afternoon dealing with the things which had been piling up over the past few days, finances and emails from lawyers, and when she’d had enough of that she decided there was time for a trip to the boxing gym. Fortunately Melissa’s brother wasn’t there. He had no idea that she’d inserted herself into that particular class in order to get close to him and keep tabs on Melissa, and it would be best for none of that to come to light while the disciplinary proceedings were still taking place at work. Jean worked up a good sweat unleashing her aggression on the punching bag, imagining it was Tom. Then her thoughts turned to Allison, who was still in hospital. Jean hadn’t been able to visit her yet but hopefully next week there would be an opportunity. 

It was 6.00 by the time she got home, and she had an hour to get ready. She took another shower, put on the dress, applied her Chance by Chanel and put on her make-up. The final touch was to hang a long gold necklace round her neck. The way it gleamed in the light hinted at temptations concealed beneath and, all in all, the results were satisfactory. She looked elegant and feminine. She gave herself a final long hard look in the mirror and exhaled slowly. She’d agreed to give herself up completely to Sidney tonight, and there could be no backing out now. 

********************************

Sidney was excited. It had been over a week since Jean had been in her apartment, the night after Sid had uncovered all the deceptions and the tangle of lies which Jean had been weaving for so long. On that occasion, they had been interrupted by the phone call which had distressed Jean and ruined all the fun. But at least it had given Sid a chance to prepare, for all her alleged disdain of planning, and meanwhile she’d also received a fascinating insight into Jean’s fantasies. She intended to satisfy them in their entirety.

Finding a red dress which matched Jean’s description had been a challenge, as Sid was happiest in checked shirt and leather jacket, but she had spent the last two afternoons scouting round the clothes stores after work and had finally come up trumps. The dress met the specification in every respect - tight, scarlet, and decadent. Sid regarded herself in the mirror. The effect was impressive, and when combined with a pair of red high heels, impressive turned into positively sinful.

She’d made other preparations too. The music, the drinks, the lighting and the arrangement of the furniture had all been taken care of. And then there were the other items which she had been busy gathering, for use later on. She wondered about leaving a little something out on display for Jean to notice when she arrived, but decided against it. It would be more thrilling to keep her in suspense, to pretend that this was a perfectly normal evening and then gradually unveil the treats in store.

She checked her phone. It was 7.30. Time to touch up the eyeliner and smoke a final cigarette. She’d acquired a cigarette holder from a vintage store which successfully completed the femme fatale image. She was all set to deliver the full Sidney experience part two and while she was aware that Jean didn’t like to be totally out of control, tonight Sid was going to be in charge at last, and it was going to be heavenly. 

********************************

There was a knock on the door. Sidney smiled to herself and glided across the room to open it. Jean stood there in her elegant coat, with a soft smile on her face. She glanced down at Sidney’s dress and her eyes widened just a fraction.

Sid couldn’t help giving a smirk. “Is it what you imagined?”

“It’s even better than I imagined.”

“You’d better come in then.”

She held the door open for Jean and followed her inside. Standing behind her, Sid helped Jean take off her coat and scarf and hung it up on the hooks by the door. Then it was Sid’s turn to carry out a swift appraisal of her prey for the evening. Her eyes flickered up and down, taking in Jean’s dress and the chain danging round her neck. 

“Not what I was expecting,” she said.

Jean hesitated. Was she in trouble already? 

“I know it’s not what we talked about on the phone,” she said. 

Sidney tilted her head slightly.

“But that was theoretical. I haven’t been at work today.”

“Theoretical,” repeated Sid. The menacing tone was back. There was nothing theoretical about what she had planned for Jean.

“So I decided on this dress instead. I thought it would be more suitable for a Saturday evening.”

Sid shot her an intense look. “Not trying to back out?”

Jean held her gaze. “Not at all.” 

“Good. It’s a beautiful dress. I love it.”

Sid was talking normally again and Jean relaxed. But it seemed she had been lulled into a false sense of security. With a wicked smile, Sid walked over to Jean, put her hands around her waist and pushed her across the floor until she was backed up against the pillar in the middle of the room. Trapped. It had only taken a second. Jean’s heartbeat accelerated as she looked into Sidney’s smoldering eyes, and she braced herself for the kiss which she knew without doubt was about to be bestowed on her willing lips.


	22. Chapter 22

Jean was backed up against the pillar and unable to resist as Sidney took full advantage of her position and brushed her glorious lips against Jean’s own. Jean, usually so reluctant to close her eyes, couldn’t keep them open as she succumbed to the delicious onslaught. After several minutes they came up for oxygen.

“You taste of bourbon,” said Jean. “And cigarettes.”

“Oh yeah? Why the fuck shouldn’t I?” replied Sid. 

“No reason.” Jean’s eyes were sparkling with admiration. The red dress, the swagger and the taste of Sid’s lips were a potent combination. 

“I have this amazing bottle of bourbon. Blanton’s. But don’t think you’re getting any.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Jean raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“You know why.”

“Tell me.”

“You need to be reminded?”

“I’m older than you, remember. My memory gets a little hazy sometimes…” 

Jean was smirking but Sid put her arm up against the pillar and moved in for another kiss, more forceful this time. She certainly wasn’t lying when she said the age gap turns her on, thought Jean. 

“How old are you, anyway?” asked Sid.

“I’m an ageless creature,” replied Jean.

Sid narrowed her eyes. “You’re already in trouble. Don’t dig yourself in deeper.”

“It’s very rude to ask a woman her age,” said Jean, well aware that she was playing with fire.

Sid looked at her with an intimidating gaze. 

“Don’t give me that. I know exactly what you’re up to.”

“What?” 

“Trying to change the subject.”

“Me?” Jean attempted to adopt an innocent expression, without much success.

“You’re just making it worse for yourself. You know perfectly well why you’re here tonight, and why you don’t deserve a drink or a cigarette.”

Jean squirmed against the pillar. It wasn’t Sid’s words so much as her tone of voice which were giving her butterflies in the stomach. 

“The reason you’re here…”

Sid paused for full theatrical effect. 

“… is because you’re supposed to be begging for my forgiveness. As you know full well.”

Jean had to grip the pillar for support as her knees buckled and threatened to give way underneath her. Giving herself up to Sidney was even more intoxicating than she’d anticipated and Sid hadn’t even done much yet, except kiss her. She summoned up all her powers of resistance.

“Remind me why I need to be forgiven?”

“Where to start? You lied to me.”

“It was a game! You were well aware of that. And you lied too,” protested Jean. 

“Yes, but my lies were insignificant, trivial, mere embroidering on the truth. Whereas you, you lied about your job, your marriage, even your kid. That’s some fucked up shit, Diane. You hooked me in and then you told me those lies. Big, bad lies.”

Sid lifted up Jean’s necklace and began to caress the bare skin around it with her fingertips, then her hand worked its way down towards the plunging neckline. 

“So pretty and demure. This is a beautiful dress. But I think it’s time for it to come off. Turn around.”

Jean obeyed, closing her eyes as she stood with her back to Sid. Sid caressed her shoulders, then smoothed her hair sideways to reveal the nape of her neck, and placed her lips on it. Jean’s legs began to shake and once again she was glad of the support of the pillar. She could feel the zipper on the smooth silk being slowly pulled down, revealing her back inch by inch, and then she felt Sidney’s kisses landing on her exposed skin. She gave an involuntary shudder. Suddenly Sid’s hands were on her shoulders again, gripping them more firmly this time. 

“Did I say you could move? You stand right there.”

Jean stuttered, unable to get any words out. It was rare for her to lose the power of speech. She earned a living from talking to her patients but she was used to being the one in charge, controlling the flow of conversation and making all the decisions. She wasn’t used to taking orders from anyone. Not even Michael would have dared talk to her like this, back in the old days. And yet, here she was, surrendering to this girl who was twenty years her junior, and enjoying every moment of it. 

Meanwhile, Sid was taking her time, relishing the situation. Removing Jean’s dress was like unwrapping the most exquisite present imaginable. The slow exposure of Jean’s back was so captivating, she wanted to make it last as long as possible and when Jean shuddered, Sid felt the thrill of having the beautiful older woman in her power. 

Eventually the zipper was all the way down and Sid parted the fabric so that the dress slipped off and fell to the floor. Now Jean was standing in just her lingerie, as expensive and luxurious as always, and her shoes. Sid walked back to the couch, sat down and took a sip of bourbon. Jean heard the ice clinking in the glass and was unable to stay silent any longer.

“What are you doing?” 

“Admiring you.” Fixing the sight of you in my mind’s eye to give me something to think about for the rest of my life, in fact. 

Jean began to shiver, although the room wasn’t particularly cold. Being ordered to stand by the pillar, stripped practically naked and then being observed like this from a distance, yet unable to see her observer, was both uncomfortable and arousing. She began to feel a familiar tingling sensation between her legs but her train of thought was broken by another noise, this time a match being struck. 

“Are you smoking a cigarette?” she asked.

“What do you think?” came the answer from behind her.

“Unbelievable.”

“Not at all. Tonight I get to do what I like. And you get to do what I like.”

Jean grimaced to herself but kept quiet. It probably wasn’t wise to provoke Sidney at a time like this.

“Take off your shoes,” came an order from the couch.

Jean hesitated for a second.

“Do it.” Sid’s tone of voice indicated that she wasn’t fucking about. 

Jean kicked off her shoes. Now Sid would have the height advantage, if she ever stopped sitting over there drinking and smoking and watching. Well, so be it. Another minute passed. Jean could hear Sid exhaling smoke and remembered the way she had looked at her while she was dancing for her the other evening. She suspected that Sid was enjoying making her wait for the next command. At last, it was issued. 

“Turn around.”

Jean complied, and was able to make eye contact with her tormentor at last. Sid was looking at her with an expression of such raw desire that Jean felt herself blushing. Sid stubbed out her cigarette, stood up and walked over to her. She put her arms around Jean and caressed her back. 

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked. The question was entirely rhetorical.


	23. Chapter 23

“What am I going to do with you,” repeated Sid, kissing Jean softly on the lips while she pretended to give the matter some thought.

Jean succumbed to the kiss and a few seconds later she felt Sid’s fingers reaching round and unhooking the clasp of her lacy black bra. She opened her eyes. 

“Take it off,” said Sid. 

Jean held Sid’s gaze as she complied, exactly as she had fantasized. Being commanded to undress by the stunning femme fatale standing in front of her was just as exciting as she had dreamed it would be.

The bra fell to the ground. Sid couldn’t resist a glance down at Jean’s flawless breasts.

“And now…”

Jean waited expectantly. Sid gave her a devilish smile.

“And now…”

“Go on. Tell me,” said Jean, unable to stay quiet any longer.

“Now it’s time for you to be tied up.”

Jean’s eyes widened as she heard these words, and she began to protest but Sid placed a finger on her lips. 

“Shhh.”

Jean felt her pulse racing but she managed to stay quiet.

“You’re going to surrender to me. You agreed.”

Jean nodded. 

“Not a word. Stay there.”

Sid left Jean standing against the pillar and went into the bedroom. She opened a drawer and took out one of the lengths of black silk rope which she’d been keeping for this special occasion. Returning to the main room, she held it out in the palms of her hands. Jean regarded the rope, trying to maintain a neutral expression and conceal her arousal at the sight of it. 

“Have you ever been tied up before?” asked Sid, softly. 

Jean shook her head. 

“I guessed as much. Do you want to be?”

Jean’s breathing faltered as she thought about it. She could feel her face becoming flushed. 

“Do you?” repeated Sid.

Jean nodded. Sid caressed her cheek. 

“I need more than that, Diane. I need you to say it out loud.”

Jean was quivering now, leaning against the pillar for support.

“I can’t hear you…” said Sid. 

“Yes,” stuttered Jean.

“Yes what?” asked Sid.

“I want to be. I want you to…” She hesitated. 

“Want me to what?” Sid was determined to extract every last syllable. 

“I want you to tie me up.”

Finally, the cathartic words had been uttered. She’d been forced to admit that she was a willing participant in whatever degradations she was about to receive at Sidney’s hands. She shivered at the thought of what she’d just confessed, and what was going to happen to her now, and how fucking wonderful it was going to feel to give herself up and submit completely to Sid’s authority. 

She came out of her reverie to find the object of her affection smiling at her. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear. If it’s your first time, I’d better make sure it’s good. Turn round.”

Wordlessly, Jean obeyed.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Jean did as she was told. Sid took hold of her hands and crossed them over, eliciting a gasp from her victim as she felt her shoulders being wrenched back. Sid looped the rope around Jean’s wrists and pulled it tight. This time Jean gave a soft moan. 

“Does it have to be so tight?”

“Yes. I can’t have you escaping. That wouldn’t do at all.”

Sid secured the knot and stood back to admire her handiwork. Then she came in closer and pressed herself up against Jean’s back, putting her arms around her waist and stroking her tenderly. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” murmured Sid in her ear. “I could stand and look at you like this for hours.”

Jean pressed her forehead against the pillar as she felt those heavenly lips brushing themselves against her neck.

“Now turn around.”

Jean was face to face with her captor once again. Sid ran her eyes up and down Jean’s body and she began to fondle Jean’s naked breasts, which were pushed enticingly forward by the way her arms were tied behind her back. 

“It’s such a turn-on, seeing you tied up and helpless. I love having you in my power like this,” she said. 

Jean was breathing heavily as Sid’s fingers teased her nipples and then traced caressing circles around her breasts. Sid bent down and took one of them into her mouth, applying gentle pressure with her tongue. Jean was unable to suppress another moan. 

“Don’t… torture… me…” she managed to get out.

“But it’s so much fun,” replied Sid, looking up. “I’ve been dreaming about this.”

Jean made another noise. 

“Did you just growl at me? That won’t do any good. You’re at my mercy now, and I intend to take full advantage.”

Sid leaned down again and Jean’s other breast was subjected to the same treatment. She squirmed and tested her bonds but her struggle was in vain. The knot was secure. And Sid had noticed the escape attempt. 

“Don’t even think about it. You’re not going anywhere. Not without my say so.”

Jean flinched. The sensation of being used as a plaything, combined with the reprimand, delivered a bolt of electricity to her clitoris. 

“I’m in control. And don’t you forget it,” said Sid. 

These words only added to Jean’s arousal. She could feel herself throbbing now, and her eyes glazed over. 

“Are you wet for me, Diane?” whispered Sid. 

Jean shuddered in response. Leaving one hand on Jean’s breast, Sid slipped the other inside Jean’s panties. The question was answered, and the touch of Sid’s fingers took Jean’s breath away. Sid thrust inside her and Jean closed her eyes and threw back her head. 

“Oh… my… god…”

Sid withdrew her hand and licked her fingers. “You taste so fucking good. I can’t wait to go down on you…”

Jean moaned again. She needed the release so badly. 

“But not yet.”

“Fucking… bitch…” Jean was not her usual eloquent self today.

“Not a good idea to talk to me like that,” said Sid. “I’m in control, remember? I think that calls for a first warning.”

She walked over to the kitchen and opened the freezer. Jean couldn’t believe Sid was making another fucking drink. But no. It was worse than that. Sid came back holding an ice cube in each hand. It was obvious what was coming next.

“You wouldn’t…” said Jean, straining to get her wrists free and failing once again. 

Sid gave a mocking laugh. “You were the one who called me a fucking bitch. Now I’m living up to my reputation.”

Jean tried to turn around, to get away, but she was too slow. Sid had her trapped up against the pillar and without further ado, she rubbed the ice cubes across Jean’s breasts and then proceeded to apply them to her nipples. 

“Arrrrrghhhhhh… fuck… you fucking beast!”

Jean’s protests were to no avail. She gritted her teeth as her nipples came into contact with the freezing ice and instantly swelled and became hard. Sid held the ice cubes there for a few seconds then casually tossed the remnants into her bourbon glass.

“Just be grateful I didn’t put them inside you,” she smirked.


	24. Chapter 24

Jean was beginning to lose her composure. The shock of what had just been done to her and her tormentor’s cold-hearted arrogance were giving her all sorts of tingling sensations. She leaned against the pillar for support, quivering as she recovered from the sensation of the cold ice on her naked body. 

“That was a first warning. I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” said Sid. 

The implication that there could be further warnings to come hung in the air between them. Jean raised her head and glared back defiantly.

“Still got some fight in you, I see,” continued Sid. “Apparently I need to remind you. Who’s in control?”

Jean hesitated, then managed to get the words out. 

“You’re in control.” 

Sid’s eyes flashed. 

“Yes, and don’t you forget it. Tonight you’re mine to do with as I please. And if that means torturing you for hours, well, you have only yourself to blame.”

Jean shuddered at this ominous statement. She’d known there would be payback but had thought that after ten, well, maybe fifteen minutes of penitence Sid would take her to bed and they would make love in the most delicious way as usual. But it seemed that wasn’t happening any time soon. 

“Now get down on your knees.” 

Jean’s reverie was interrupted. She looked at Sid, not sure if she’d heard that correctly. 

“You heard me. Are you going to do it, or do you need some extra persuasion?”

Sid reached down behind the couch and produced a riding crop. Oh my god, thought Jean. She had that there, waiting to produce it at the opportune moment. She’s got this all planned out. 

“I’ve had this since I was thirteen,” continued Sid. “So you can imagine I know exactly how to use it. Do you want me to show you right now or are you going to get down on your knees?”

Slowly, and with difficulty, Jean sank to the floor, which was hard and uncomfortable. She was positioned awkwardly with her hands tied behind her back, but she gritted her teeth. She didn’t think she would be getting much sympathy if she complained. 

“Good,” said Sid. “Now, I think I’ve waited long enough. Time for you to beg for my forgiveness.”

Jean had known this moment was coming, but being in this submissive position was overwhelming and she was finding it hard to concentrate. In addition to which, a small part of her was wondering what Sidney would do if she refused to speak. 

After a few seconds of silence, Sid approached with the riding crop in her right hand. She put the tip of it under Jean’s chin and then applied pressure so that Jean had no option but to raise her face to look up at her. Sid could read a mixture of apprehension and lust in her eyes. Jean’s blonde hair, normally so pretty and perfect, was now quite disheveled. 

“Are you going to beg? Or are you going to make me use this on you?”

“Sidney…” stuttered Jean.

“Yes? I’m listening.”

“Please forgive me.” Jean was aware that she was blushing but wasn’t able to stop herself. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Because I lied to you.”

“What about?”

“About Dolly, Michael, my job, my whole life.”

“What else?”

“I played you.”

“Yes you did, you twisted fucking bitch.”

Jean closed her eyes on hearing this brutal description of herself but she knew better than to argue with it. 

“I was infatuated with you and I couldn’t tear myself away.”

“Good answer. But what else? More recently?”

Jean managed to open her eyes again and looked up at Sidney. 

“I believed Sam when he said you almost slept with him.”

“Yes. Now that was unacceptable behavior, Dr Holloway.”

“I know.”

“Believing Sam instead of having faith in me.”

“I realize that now.”

“Go on…” 

“I’m sorry, Sidney. Please forgive me.”

Jean’s blue eyes were shining, on the verge of tears. There was no doubting her sincerity. Sid was dangerously close to dropping her dominatrix act and rushing to provide comfort to the woman she loved. But she had other plans for tonight and didn’t want to abandon them. 

“No sniveling, Dr Holloway,” she said, putting out a hand to stroke Jean’s cheek while she considered what to do. “I think it’s time for you to pay for your transgressions.”

“How?” whispered Jean.

“You know how. I’m going to make you my slave for the night.”

Sid certainly did have a good memory, thought Jean. That was exactly what she had promised when they talked about it before. Jean also remembered what she had said herself, about being disobedient. She wasn’t feeling quite so brave now that Sid was actually standing in front of her in the red dress, holding a riding crop, while Jean was on her knees with her hands tied behind her back. 

“So the first thing you can do is bow down to your mistress.”

Jean paused for a second, then lowered her head.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I worship the ground you walk on.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now stand up,” commanded Sid.

Jean struggled to her feet and Sid walked around her, swishing the crop. Jean flinched as she felt the air currents moving against her bare skin. 

“Time for these to come off, I think.”

Sid pulled Jean’s lacy black panties down her legs until they fell to the floor and Jean stepped out of them. 

“Stand there, with your legs apart,” said Sid. 

Jean did as she was told, looking into Sid’s eyes. With the gentlest of touches, Sid traced the crop from Jean’s left cheek to the side of her neck, then down between her breasts to her stomach, and finally, inevitably, to between her legs. 

“How does that feel?” asked Sid.

“I’d rather it was your hand,” replied Jean.

“Oh, would you now? Well, maybe, if you’re very good, you’ll be rewarded with that later.”

“In that case, I’ll try to be good.”

“And if you’re exceptionally good, maybe you’ll get to feel the pleasure of my tongue on you too.”

“In that case…”

“What?”

“I’ll try to be exceptionally good.”

Sid nodded with satisfaction. Her slave for the night was a quick learner.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've probably realized I'm trying to spin this out as long as possible... and I'm not in the least bit apologetic.

Sid took a sip of bourbon while she considered her next move. Then she walked back up to Jean and put her hands on her shoulders. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable.”

She untied Jean’s wrists and took one of them in her own. The rope had left a red mark on it and Sid lowered her head to kiss it, then did the same with the other. 

But the tender moment didn’t last long. Sid put her arms around Jean and maneuvered her across the room towards the chair, then pushed her down into it with a forceful shove. Jean sat looking up at her, eyes shining. That push was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time, if anything even more so now that she was practically naked and completely defenseless.

“Wait there.”

Sid went back into the bedroom and Jean contemplated making a token run for it but feared she might not be able to take the consequences. She remained motionless in the chair. A few seconds later, Sid returned carrying some more rope and a blindfold. 

“Now sit up.”

Jean began to protest at the sight of the blindfold. 

“Shut the fuck up. Remember who’s in control,” reprimanded Sid. 

Jean had no choice but to acquiesce. Sid put the blindfold over her eyes and arranged it carefully to make sure her victim couldn’t see a thing. Then she took the rope and wound it around Jean’s breasts in a figure of eight. The blindfold heightened Jean’s senses, and she gasped as the rough fibers brushed against her sensitive skin and gave a soft moan as it was pulled tight. 

“What to do with these ends?” asked Sid. “Let me see. Is it very wrong of me… to do this?”

She looped one of the trailing ends of rope round Jean’s neck a couple of times. Jean gasped as she felt it constricting her throat, and put a hand up to test it and make sure she could breathe. 

“It’s all right. I’m keeping an eye on you. I’m not going to let you be strangled.”

Jean nodded. She tried to stay calm. She knew that she could trust Sid.

“Sit back.”

Jean did as she was told. 

“Now, it’s about time you took these luxurious panties off.”

Jean reached down and eased them off.

“And now, I want you to open up for me.”

Jean slowly parted her legs.

“Wider,” commanded Sid.

Jean obeyed and spread her thighs open as far as she could go. She could feel herself becoming aroused at the thought of Sid stroking her there. With the blindfold on, she wasn’t sure what Sid was planning. It was so tantalizing not to know what was going to happen next. That delicious touch could happen any minute now, and she was ready for it. 

“That’s better,” said Sid. She took two more pieces of rope and tied Jean’s ankles to the chair legs. 

“Just to make sure you’re not tempted to return to your usual demure posture.” 

Now Jean was immobilized in the chair. Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry, Sid took hold of the other trailing end of rope, pulled it down and threaded it between Jean’s legs. Jean hadn’t been expecting that and suppressed a cry as she felt the coarse rope making contact with her delicate flesh. She was so turned on, it was almost enough to send her over the edge, but she resisted the temptation to shift position, to rub herself against it. She was determined to hold out, lured by the promise of Sid’s tongue. 

Sid walked behind the chair, took Jean’s wrists and wrapped the two ends of rope around them, connecting them in a knot that bound them securely. Now Jean couldn’t move at all for fear of the rope around her neck tightening or the one underneath her biting into her. 

Still standing behind Jean, Sid couldn’t resist the sight of her breasts, so milky white by contrast with the black rope with which they were restrained. She moved her hands down Jean’s body and caressed them with her fingers, gently squeezing her nipples until they hardened at her touch. Jean squirmed underneath her and Sid tightened her grasp.

“Did I say you could move?”

Jean froze, remembering that she was required to be exceptionally good to stand a chance of receiving her reward. Sid’s hands resumed their attentions and continued to wander across her body, down her sides and across her belly. Jean could feel fingernails grazing her skin but she gritted her teeth and took it without flinching. 

“That’s better,” said Sid, withdrawing and standing back. Jean could hear footsteps, then the sound of a bottle being opened and liquid poured into a glass. 

Sid took a sip of her Blanton’s, and then another. She walked back to Jean and leaned over her, taking a fistful of her hair in her hand and slowly pulling it back so that Jean had no choice but to tilt her face upwards. Sid placed her lips on Jean’s and Jean opened her mouth to let Sid’s tongue inside. Instead, she felt a trickle of bourbon drop into her mouth, followed by another. Receiving the delicious liquid from Sid’s lips was intensely erotic and Jean felt herself throbbing with desire.

“You’ve been so good, I thought you deserved it,” said Sid.

“More,” whispered Jean.

Sid smiled. She was enjoying herself immensely.

“Not just yet. I thought I might order a pizza…”

“You fucker…” murmured Jean. 

“What was that?” asked Sid.

“Nothing.”

“Remember…”

“I know. You’re in control.”

“And don’t you forget it. Now, this bourbon is for me to do with as I choose.”

And with that, Sid tipped the rest of her glass over Jean’s body. The shock of it took Jean’s breath away, but the sensation of Sid’s warm tongue licking it off her made it all worthwhile. 

“That is fucking delicious…” said Sid, ensuring that no drop was wasted. Jean had no choice but to succumb to Sid’s mouth roaming across her breasts and stomach.

“Are you talking about me, or your fucking bourbon?” she asked. 

“The bourbon, of course,” replied Sid. “I haven’t tasted you yet. Maybe it’s time I did?”

Jean shivered again. She was dying for this. 

“Would you like me to go down on you, Diane?”

Jean groaned. “Sidney. Please. Just fucking do it!”

Sid smiled to herself.

“I’d better undo this then.”

She went over to the kitchen and found a sharp pair of scissors, then cut the rope and pulled it out from underneath Jean, who gave a moan as she felt it being released. Kneeling in front of her, Sid stroked her lightly with one finger. 

“Oh god…” said Jean. “More…”

Sid moved closer, ready to deliver on her promise, but just then, the quietness was shattered by a loud noise resounding around the building. The fire alarm had gone off.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, my friends, it's time to wrap it up now. Thanks for coming along with me on this journey and hope you enjoyed it. Thanks to Lisa Rubin, Naomi Watts and Sophie Cookson for giving us the delight that was Gypsy. I can honestly say it changed my life :)

“Shit!” cried Jean, just as Sid exclaimed “What the actual fuck?”

The fire alarm continued.

“Don’t panic,” said Sid. “Sit still while I get you out of this.”

Jean remembered that Sid was good in an emergency and did her best to stay as calm as possible, although she was terrified. Sid took the blindfold off immediately and found the scissors which fortunately were still lying close to hand. With a few snips Jean was released from the chair and her hands were free. 

“Don’t even think about getting dressed, we don’t have time,” said Sid, running into the bedroom. She returned with a bathrobe which she handed to Jean. 

“Put this on.”

While Jean was hurriedly getting into the bathrobe, Sid grabbed some slippers and handed them to her. She grabbed her coat, keys, wallet and phone.

“Let’s go.” 

They ran out of the door into the hallway, looking around anxiously for signs of fire, but none were evident. They raced down the steps to the hallway of the apartment block. Nobody else was around. 

“I guess my neighbors are out partying,” said Sid. “But that’s weird. Why did the alarm go off, in that case?”

She turned to Jean and noticed that she was shivering, despite the bathrobe. Sid instinctively put her arms around her and held her like that for a few seconds.

“Ok, kid. You stay right here. I’m just going out to see if anything’s going on outside,” she said.

Jean nodded, and sat on the concrete steps while Sid went out into the street to investigate. She returned a couple of minutes later. 

“Couldn’t see anything out there. Or anyone. How the fuck do we turn this thing off?”

“We have to wait for the fire department,” said Jean. 

Sure enough, a fire engine soon appeared, siren flashing, and several firefighters got out. They approached Jean and Sid and asked them to wait on the other side of the street while they checked out the building. Once again Sid pulled Jean close to her to create some warmth and the two of them huddled together, not caring what the firefighters or passersby might think. 

“Should have brought the bottle of bourbon with me,” Sid muttered into Jean’s neck.

Jean smiled, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had a horrible feeling she knew why the fire alarm had gone off. She just hoped the building wasn’t actually on fire. 

A few minutes later, the firefighters emerged, gave the all clear and turned the alarm off.

“Did you find anything?” asked Jean.

“No, it looks like it was a prank. There’s no fire, but someone set the alarm off deliberately,” replied the chief firefighter.

Jean exhaled, but her mind was whirring. Was it possible that Melissa had done this? Why? If it was her, thank god she didn’t actually set fire to the building... that could have been serious. We could have died…

“Are you ok, Diane?” asked Sid. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

Jean came to her senses and nodded. “Just cold,” she said.

“Let’s go back inside and get you warmed up then.”

They returned to Sid’s apartment. Sid took Jean by the hand and led her into the bedroom. She removed the bathrobe and Jean stepped out of the slippers, then Sid pulled back the sheets and Jean got into bed. 

“Can I get you anything?” asked Sid, a concerned expression on her face. 

“Bourbon,” replied Jean. God knows she deserved it after that shock.

“Coming right up,” said Sid.

She returned a minute later with two glasses and sat down on the bed next to Jean. They clinked glasses and drank. Jean began to feel more calm. She would consider what to do with Melissa later. Right now, she just wanted to be close to Sid. 

“We could have done without that interruption.” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not finished with you yet,” replied Sid, with a glint in her eye. “I’m going to make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

Jean smiled back. “That sounds nice…”

“But first I thought it might be a good time for that pizza.”

Jean laughed. “I could murder a pizza.”

The pizza was duly ordered. Sid took off the red dress and put on her trusty blue checked shirt and stripy shorts, then returned to Jean’s side for a few minutes of cuddling and kissing before there was a buzz at the door, which made Jean jump. 

“God, you are tense, aren’t you?” said Sid, getting up. “I’ll have to help you out with that…”

She returned with the pizza and they tore into it. 

“I’m starving, and I haven’t even been smoking any Blue Dream,” said Sid. “Wait a minute. Are you getting crumbs in my bed?”

“Revenge is sweet,” replied Jean, well aware that this would get a reaction. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Sid. “I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer and I know how to use it.”

“Your ice cream, your sheets,” replied Jean, nonchalantly.

“Right! Game on,” said Sid, returning with a tub of Cherry Garcia. “My favorite,” she said, with a coy smile.

“Hey! I want some of that,” said Jean, stealing the spoon and digging in. The ice cream was very hard.

“It needs to warm up,” said Sid. “How could I speed that up, do you think?”

Jean protested as Sid smeared freezing cold ice cream all over her naked body, but it was worth it for the glorious feeling of having her lick it off with her warm tongue.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” said Jean. 

“You know what else would feel good?” asked Sid. 

Jean nodded.

“Are you going to ask nicely?”

“Please, Sid.”

The desire in Jean’s eyes was plain to see. 

“Very well… I guess you’ve earned it.”

Sid took off her shirt, put her hand under the sheets and placed it between Jean’s legs. After everything that had been done to her that evening, Jean had never been so wet in her life. Sid gently ran her fingers up and down and could hear Jean murmuring in response. 

“Oh my god…”

Sid plunged a finger inside Jean and then another. She continued to thrust in and out slowly, building up a smooth rhythm. Then she moved under the covers, got herself into position between Jean’s legs and began to use her tongue. 

“Fuck yes!”

Jean was moaning now, head tilted back on the pillow, eyes closed, surrendering entirely to the delicious sensations which she was receiving.

“Didn’t need that ice cream after all,” said Sid, coming up for a breather. “You taste fucking divine.” She went back in for some more. Soon Sid could sense Jean was on the edge of orgasm from the way she was tightening up around her fingers. She went harder and faster, continuing to thrust deep inside. 

A few seconds later, with a loud cry, Jean went tumbling into the abyss, but Sid didn’t stop until every last convulsion had passed and Jean collapsed, exhausted, onto the bed. Sid waited a minute or two before gently easing out and moving back up the bed. Jean nestled her head against Sid’s shoulder and they lay in each other’s arms. Eventually Jean was able to speak once more. 

“Sidney, that was amazing. Thank you.”

“Shhh.”

Sid leaned over and kissed her. Active denial was a thing of the past. She knew Jean was hers now, and she’d never been more happy in her life.


End file.
